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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25450759">Once More With Feeling</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CLynnB/pseuds/CLynnB'>CLynnB</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Glee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Anxiety, Attempted Murder, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Awesome Burt Hummel, BAMF Kurt Hummel, Bad Parenting, Biracial Blaine, Blaine's parents suck, Cats, Fluff, Gay, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kurt and Blaine are so in love, M/M, Married Kurt and Blaine, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of bashings, Michael Jackson - Freeform, More Fluff, Musicals, Nerdy things...Blaine's a nerd, Not like physical abuse but still, Polylingual Blaine, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Redo Fic of sorts, So much music...this is Glee, Sort Of, Time Travel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:00:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>116,421</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25450759</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CLynnB/pseuds/CLynnB</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Soulmates, as it happened, were a real thing. They weren’t common, and often it went undiscovered even if they did find their perfect match. Happily Ever After was hard to come by, but for soulmates it was supposed to be a guarantee. But with so few ever getting the chance to meet, the concept had turned into a myth. A story. A fun thing for fanfiction writers to play with. </p><p>Blaine and Kurt never got their Happily Ever After. </p><p>So they got sent back in time to do it all over again.</p><p>*Unfinished, But all parts are now up. May be fleshed out in the future.*</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic is written by someone who has never once sat down to watch a full episode of Glee. I love the music, and I enjoy the storyline to some degree...but I always thought it was a little too....dramatic? Honestly, Kurt and Blaine's love story was so convoluted...(not to mention the others) that I just couldn't handle it. So I rewrote it, kind of, and made this instead.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Soulmates, as it happened, were a real thing. They weren’t common, and often it went undiscovered even if they did find their perfect match. Happily Ever After was hard to come by, but for soulmates it was supposed to be a guarantee. But with so few ever getting the chance to meet, the concept had turned into a myth. A story. A fun thing for fanfiction writers to play with. </p><p>So, when a soulmate pair finally, finally got their chance at Happily Ever After, the Fates took notice and cheered. They were saddened at how long it had taken, the trials that the two had faced to get their chance, and the heartbreak that had nearly destroyed them. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Soulmates were supposed to be happy, after all. Someone had really dropped the ball with these two. </p><p>And when that ball practically shattered one night, the Fates stepped in. They couldn’t let this happen. This was the first soulmate pair that the world had seen in decades. This wouldn’t do at all.</p><p>Blaine was driving himself and Kurt back to their small apartment after their honeymoon. They’d had to wait almost a year after their marriage to be able to even get the chance for a honeymoon, but they were so very happy that it had happened at all. Kurt was sleeping in the passenger seat, a small smile of contentment on his face. Blaine was humming along to the softly playing radio. Everything was good in life.</p><p>Blaine only saw the semi after it had run the red.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~</p>
</div><p>Kurt found himself standing near the bleachers of McKinley High School, watching David Karofsky stalk away. It was raining lightly, and they were getting wet. He was confused, of course he was, he had been in the car after their honeymoon, and now they were at the high school and…</p><p>And he needed to help Blaine through what was probably the worst panic attack he’d had in over a year. </p><p>Once he got Blaine to remember how to breath, he studied his husband and frowned. Blaine was wearing the Dalton uniform. And he looked so young. His eyes were closed, and he was curled in on himself, grasping tightly to Kurt’s arms as he focused on breathing. He’d spoken of the semi, of them crashing, of intense pain and fear and…and…</p><p>Kurt had hushed him, told him to breath and they were fine. They were okay. They were alive. They were…they were sixteen again.</p><p>Yeah, there was no mistaking what day this was. The day that they had confronted Dave Karofsky about the kiss he had forced on Kurt. They’d only known each other for about two weeks at this point. Kurt swallowed heavily, looked down at their left hands, and realized that they still had their wedding rings on.</p><p>Or, well, they had rings on. He didn’t quite recognize them.</p><p>He sat back, got Blaine to sit more comfortably, leaning against him, and studied the rings. His own was silver, with a design of what looked to be tungsten spiraling through it. It took a moment to realize that it was calligraphy and it spelled out the word Forever.</p><p>Blaine’s ring, which he studied from where he carefully held his husband’s hand, was what looked like tungsten, with silver calligraphy spelling out Always. </p><p>They were pretty.</p><p>“What’s going on?” Blaine whispered, his face pale, his eyes still closed and leaning heavily on Kurt. </p><p>Kurt took a deep breath. “I’m not sure,” he replied. And then he looked around them. </p><p>Their bookbags were sitting against the fence. He couldn’t remember if they’d had them with them the first time around, although he was pretty sure Blaine hadn’t. In fact, he was pretty sure that Blaine hadn’t gotten that exact satchel until college. And there was a letter with the words Kurt and Blaine Anderson-Hummel written on the front of it. He heaved a sigh, grabbed the letter and opened it. </p><p>“Dear Kurt and Blaine,” he read, and Blaine sat up a little, focusing. “We are so very sorry. This was never meant to happen. You were supposed to get your Happily Ever After.”</p><p>Blaine snorted a little, and Kurt gave him a soft look. He returned to the letter. “We’re sorry for the trials you’ve been through. Soulmates aren’t supposed to have so much trouble. They aren’t supposed to die as soon as things are good. So, we sent you back to do it again. This time to do it right.”</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes. “Okay, I know we had some rough patches but still. That kind of stings.”</p><p>Blaine nudged him, and Kurt continued with a small smile. “There shouldn’t be many side effects from your death, Kurt, as you were asleep when the collision happened. Blaine, we’re terribly sorry, but it’s probably going to affect your PTSD to some degree.” That explained the panic attack then. </p><p>“Great,” Blaine grumbled, hands tightening into fists. “Just great.” He’d worked years to overcome the PTSD from that stupid attack after that stupid dance and he and Kurt had finally gotten it mostly worked out right before their wedding and now it looked like they were back to square one. Kurt settled his hand over Blaine’s and squeezed just a little.</p><p>“Things will probably be a bit different from what you remember. Changes will happen just because we sent you back. It should all work out, regardless. Your bags have some things from the future that we allowed to be brought back with you. As a gift, we give you the ability to always understand each other, so that misunderstandings are a thing of the past. And, as an apology, the two of you will get two wishes each.”</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes. “Wishes? Like fairy godmother wishes? They actually expect us to believe that?”</p><p>Blaine’s hand moved to his mouth and he absently chewed on the heel of his thumb until Kurt gently pushed it away. “Kurt,” he muttered. “We died. And now we’re sixteen again, sitting at William McKinley High School. Wishes seem a bit plausible to me.”</p><p>Kurt looked back to the letter, but all it had left was a “Good luck, The Fates,” to end it with. He gave a big sigh to collect himself and then turned to look at Blaine. Blaine looked shaky still, and so, so young. Gently, Kurt reached out and framed Blaine’s face with his hands. “Wishes then,” he whispered, looking into his husband/boyfriend/friend’s golden eyes. Yeah, that wasn’t confusing at all. They’d worry about it later though. “I wish for us to always remember how far we’ve come. All the good, all the bad, and how much we worked to get where we are.”</p><p>Blaine licked his lips. “I wish for us to know how to defend ourselves. To be able to not be the victims again.”</p><p>Kurt gave a small nod. “I wish for us to always be able to support each other. Physically, emotionally, financially. In everything we do, so that we can do it together.”<br/>
“I wish for us to always know how much we love each other. To never doubt ourselves or each other.”</p><p>Kurt let his eyes fall shut as he rested his forehead against Blaine’s. He gave a soft, wet sounding laugh. “God, we’re so sappy. We could have wished for superpowers or a million dollars or something.”</p><p>Blaine laughed as well, his hand moving to brace against the back of Kurt’s neck. “I think we wished for exactly the right things,” he murmured. They stayed there, resting against each other, breathing each other in and calming themselves. It was comfortable, and Blaine could swear he could feel Kurt’s love enveloping him. </p><p>Eventually Kurt sat back, his blue eyes looking at Blaine with nothing more than all the love he could offer. “Okay. So, we’re sixteen. Almost seventeen. We’re doing our lives over again. We can do this. What’s in our bags?”</p><p>Blaine stood, glad that they’d been under some cover from the light, misty rain, and grabbed his bag, handing Kurt his as he plopped back down on the concrete step. He rifled through his satchel, frowning. “I’ve got my music and my plays. The ones I’ve written over the years,” he commented, his bag filled with notebooks and sheet music. He’d just gotten the call that an off-Broadway group had wanted to perform one of his musicals, right before they’d gone on their delayed honeymoon. He’d been writing for years, though, just for fun.</p><p>“I’ve got my designs,” Kurt murmured, looking at the binder filled with fashion designs. He’d had a show with Vogue coming up, his debut collection was supposed to be shown. “And our marriage certificate.” He blinked. “That’s going to be hard to explain if someone finds it.” The date on the certificate was for today, or what he vaguely remembered today’s date might be, which…yeah. Same-sex marriage wasn’t even legal in Ohio, especially for two sixteen-year-olds. “Right, okay,” he gave himself a moment to gather his thoughts. “We need to get back to class.”</p><p>“Class. Right,” Blaine frowned. “I’m at Dalton this year.” </p><p>Kurt paused and then looked over at Blaine, reaching out to brush his fingers against Blaine’s cheek. “And I’m not going to transfer this time, I think,” he whispered. Blaine froze for a moment and then nodded, looking like he might have already known that. “You need Dalton. Especially right now. For you it’s a sanctuary. But for me it was a gilded cage. I’ll manage here.”</p><p>“I don’t want to be away from you,” Blaine whispered, although he understood exactly what Kurt was saying. They’d lived together for over a year now, though, and separating was going to be hell for both.</p><p>Kurt kissed him softly. “I know, baby,” he replied, just as soft. “But we can do this.” They had to, and they wouldn’t make the same mistakes. Besides, Dalton was only half an hour from Lima, they could make this work.</p><p>Blaine gave a short, tired laugh. “I don’t even remember what classes I’m in right now.” </p><p>“Good thing I seem to have our schedules here, then, isn’t it?” Kurt said, pulling two papers from his bag. They were, indeed, their class schedules. As well as a few upcoming dates that the two were supposed to be remembering. </p><p>“Convenient,” Blaine said. He sucked in a breath and got to his feet again, brushing off his pants. “Okay. I’ve got to go to be back in time. You need to get to class. Call me after glee. Please.”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>They kissed softly and separated at the parking lot, and although it was hard, both still felt the love they had for each other, like a warm hug being held in their hearts.<br/>
It wasn’t until Blaine was back in his car and had managed to locate his phone that he got the message from Dalton. He didn’t remember this happening last time, but whatever. He gave a huffing sigh, rolled his eyes, and headed back to McKinley. He’d just hang out in the choir room until Kurt was done.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rest of the day had been a little hectic. Kurt had almost had his own panic attack when he saw Finn again and realized that his brother was alive and well, and maybe just maybe they’d be able to save him this time around. Of course, he wasn’t his brother yet. But still. He’d stumbled through conversations, not remembering fully what was going on in the glee drama but trying to keep up. The memories were rather easy to recall once he concentrated, and he figured that maybe his wish to remember was beginning to come to fruition. </p><p>So, he made it through the rest of the school day, managed not to get slushied or locker slammed, and joined Mercedes, Tina and Rachel on the way to the choir room. Finn, Puck, Santana and Brittany met them on the way. Artie, Quinn and Mike were just pausing in the doorway, though, watching something. </p><p>There was someone playing around on the piano in the choir room. Kurt vaguely recognized the music, and it made him frown, because he was pretty sure Blaine was supposed to be at Dalton, not in their choir room. But no, there he was, absently plunking out a tune for a musical that he would write in a few years or had written a few years ago. Whatever, time travel was confusing. </p><p>“Spy!” Rachel practically screamed, pointing at the boy behind the piano. Blaine looked up, blinking at her and the others that were filing into the room. He paused for a moment, because he wasn’t friends with these people yet; technically he’d never met them, and he had to remember that. Kurt merely shook his head, dropping into a chair on the first row and giving a bemused smile. “What are you doing here?!” Rachel yelled, her voice going just a bit shrill.</p><p>“Well,” Blaine drawled, eyeing the group that was finding their seats. “There was an incident involving a bunch of dead fish and the air ducts, and Dalton Academy has been evacuated for the weekend. So, it was either go home,” his face scrunched up at that thought, “or come here and see my honey.” He gave a cheeky grin, but all in all still managed to look demure and dapper and altogether polite. Kurt was hard pressed not to roll his eyes. </p><p>There were a bunch of frowns at that, as everyone exchanged looks. “Who’s dating the prep school spy?” Quinn asked, eyes narrowing dangerously. </p><p>Kurt actually did roll his eyes at that and held out a hand. “Come here, baby,” he said, to the shock of everyone, and he smiled when Blaine obligingly went and kissed him gently. There were shocked gasps and surprised cries and the two smiled against each other’s mouths.  Kurt could feel the tenseness leave Blaine’s shoulders as the younger man—boy?—sat in the chair next to him. “You okay?” he whispered. </p><p>“I’m exhausted,” Blaine replied honestly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept in this timeline. But it had probably been a while. “For the record,” he said, louder for the rest of the group. “I’m not a spy.” </p><p>“Are you in the glee club at Dalton?” Finn asked, frowning at his almost-brother and this boy that he didn’t know.</p><p>Blaine shrugged. “Yes. Lead soloist. Why?”</p><p>“Then you are a spy!” Rachel cried. </p><p>Artie was frowning. “Wait. You’re lead soloist? Are you a senior?”</p><p>Blaine shook his head, tangling his fingers with Kurt’s and not really looking at anyone. In fact, he seemed to be studying how his ring looked up against Kurt’s skin. No one else had noticed the rings at all, or if they had they hadn’t commented on them. “I’m a sophomore,” he answered honestly, if a little absently. Kurt was frowning at him, really looking. Blaine really did look exhausted, much more than he had earlier this afternoon, panic attack or no.</p><p>Puck crowed. “Hummel man! You a cradle robber now?” he laughed.</p><p>Kurt huffed a bit. “I’m only two months older than Blaine, Puckerman,” he replied, squeezing Blaine’s hand. Blaine startled a little, looking up at him, blinking his big green and gold puppy eyes. “Blaine?”</p><p>“I had to repeat my freshman year,” Blaine said, keeping his eyes on Kurt. “Missed too much school the first time.”</p><p>“Why?” Santana asked, scowling slightly. </p><p>“Coma,” Blaine answered, looking back at her and then across at the others, frowning darkly. He wasn’t exactly sure if he’d ever really explained this to the club before, or later or whatever it would be. Kurt knew; Kurt knew almost everything about him. “Two months. Physical therapy for five after that.”</p><p>There was silence for a long moment as everyone digested that. And then Tina timidly asked, “What happened?”</p><p>Blaine’s frown deepened and he fought off a yawn. “I’m a gay kid who went to public school. What do you think happened?” He really did yawn that time, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “Man, I’m tired,” he whispered. Kurt frowned at him, ignoring the absolute silence going on around them. Baine was never this candid about the attack, and evidently his exhaustion was playing a large part there. Clearly, Blaine’s insomnia had been particularly bad this week, although he hadn’t really shown it the first time around. Everyone else was remaining completely silent. They were all shocked by the implications of Blaine’s rather matter-of-fact statements. </p><p>And then Rachel, of course, piped up again. “Is no one going to say anything about a traitor sitting amongst us?” she asked, sounding just a little huffy.</p><p>Blaine blinked up at Kurt and then leaned forward so he could look around the other boy at Rachel directly. “Okay. So, I could kind of understand calling me a spy, but where does traitor come in?”</p><p>“So, you admit you’re a spy!” Rachel exclaimed, pointing straight at him. </p><p>Blaine stared at her for a moment, and then gave a long groan, losing his dapper demeanor and letting himself fall face first into Kurt’s lap. “Oh my god. I haven’t slept in like four days. You guys could have a musical orgy in front of me and I doubt I’d notice,” he grumbled into Kurt’s thighs, causing his boyfriend, husband, whatever to giggle softly. </p><p>“Right,” Kurt said in the moment of shocked silence, standing up and grabbing Blaine before he could fall. He led them down to sit against the lowest riser, forgoing the chairs completely. Once again, the others were silenced, but this time by Kurt’s seeming disregard to getting his pants dirty by sitting on the floor. “Lay down, B. Get some sleep while we wait for Mr. Schue and go through Glee and then we’ll figure out what to do with you for the rest of the weekend.” Blaine didn’t comment, once again ignoring everyone in the room to curl up on the floor, pillowing his head in Kurt’s lap. Kurt stroked the back of his neck and hummed <em>Somewhere Only We Know</em> softly, and Blaine was asleep almost immediately. </p><p>There were whispers happening behind him, the others all discussing the implications of Blaine’s rather shocking words. How bullying could end up with hospital stays and…<br/>
“He probably wouldn’t have told you all of that if he wasn’t so exhausted,” Kurt spoke up, not looking up from Blaine’s sleeping face. “Blaine doesn’t really talk about it. Ever.”</p><p>“But you know,” Mercedes said softly. “Boo…what do you know?”</p><p>Kurt sighed, feeling like he’d been doing that a lot. His hand moved from Blaine’s neck to his back, still stroking softly, keeping the boy asleep because he so desperately needed it. “B went to a school dance with another guy, a friend. They were jumped by some kids who didn’t like the fact that they were gay. Blaine ended up in a coma, like he said.”</p><p>“And his date?” Santana asked, leaning forward. There was an odd look in her eye, almost a mix between anger and sadness and Kurt wasn’t going to focus on that right now.</p><p>“…Died on the operating table,” he grumbled. The others fell silent again and Kurt muttered to himself for a moment. “Okay, look. <em>This</em> is the reality of the world. People don’t like homosexuals. <em>This</em> is why I’m so upset by the bullying, because I know how far it can go. I know how it can completely ruin lives and even take them. <em>This</em> is why I’ve been looking into transferring to Dalton, because it’s <em>safe</em> there.”</p><p>There was a bit of an outburst at that one, and Blaine shifted just enough that everyone quieted. Kurt, of course, wasn’t really contemplating transferring, not this time around. But if he put the idea in his friends’ heads, then maybe there would be enough changes that he could actually be a bit safer in this school. And, knowing somewhat how the future was going to go, maybe it would be safer for Blaine when he transferred here next year, if he still decided to do so. They had come back for a reason, after all, and this could be part of it. </p><p>Mr. Schue barreled into the room, apologizing for being late, having run into Sue in the hall and… ”Is that a kid from Dalton?” he asked, pointing to the boy curled up on the floor next to Kurt. He obviously recognized the blazer, as iconic as it was. Especially for those that had seen the Warblers perform before. The teacher was frowning softly, in concerned confusion.</p><p>“It’s Kurt’s boyfriend,” Artie said, shrugging lightly. “He got out of class early. Something about fish and air ducts?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Tina said, looking completely befuddled. “Isn’t Dalton a prep school? Boarding school? What’s with the pranks?”</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes. “It’s an all-boys boarding school. The week something doesn’t end up on fire or the fountains filled with bubbles or someone duct taped to the ceiling is the week that the world ends,” he replied with a sardonic grin. </p><p>Mr. Schue gave a slow, confused nod. “Okay. So…why is he asleep?”</p><p>“He’s had a bad week,” Puck said slowly, not really looking at anyone. He didn’t know that for sure, of course, but anything that had the kid sleeping on the floor of the choir room indicated that he’d not had a great week to begin with. Puck focused on their teacher then, and then shrugged. “Whatever. He’s not gonna try to steal our setlist or anything. I doubt he’d even wake up if we started singing Metallica or whatever. So, let’s get to it.”</p><p>And they did, singing together with a lot of feeling and joy and laughter. Perhaps they were a little quieter than usual, in deference to the boy sleeping on the ground, but that didn’t seem to stop them from enjoying themselves. They also noticed how Kurt, singing along happily, had slid Blaine’s phone from his pocket and was texting someone during the class. Mr. Schue, though, let it slide this time, because he didn’t exactly know what was going on or why the rest of the club suddenly seemed so protective of the Dalton kid, aside from Rachel who was still muttering on about spies.</p><p>At the end of glee, Kurt gently set about waking his boyfriend-husband-whatever, shaking his shoulder and softly calling his name. Kurt loved moments like this, where Blaine was just waking up from a deep sleep and was all muzzy and soft. “Come on, love,” he whispered, helping Blaine to his feet. His friends were still hanging about some, talking amongst themselves but still paying some attention. “We’re going to go to my place, where you’ll get another nap. And then I’ll drop you off at Wes’s house for the rest of the weekend.”</p><p>“Wes?” Blaine frowned, yawning slightly. He took his phone when Kurt handed it to him, glancing at the text conversation that had happened between the two of them. “Ah. Okay. I’ll stay with Wes then. Thanks.” Kurt had, somehow, managed to text Wes and explain that Blaine had been with him when the evacuation had happened, and that he needed a place to be for the weekend. Wes, as awesome as he was, didn’t even question it.</p><p>They slid into the hallway, absently linking hands without even realizing it. The other glee members more or less surrounded them without speaking, since they knew that hockey practice was getting out at the same time. The least they could do was make sure the two didn’t have to deal with anything else today. The two noticed, but didn’t comment, instead giving each other small smiles.</p><p>In the parking lot, Blaine grabbed his satchel from his car and then locked it up and climbed into Kurt’s Navigator. Kurt had said that he’d drop Blaine’s car off at Dalton for him on Monday after class. Blaine was ready to admit to himself that he definitely needed more sleep before he tried driving anywhere. Especially to a house he’d never been to, since Kurt’s family hadn’t actually moved yet. His father wasn’t even married yet. Geez, this was confusing. Not to mention the fact that Blaine could vividly remember the crash that had killed them just earlier that day, and he was trying not to panic at the thought of just getting into a car, let alone being the one to drive it. Probably better not to let him behind the wheel for a little while.</p><p>Kurt, for the record, had to remember not to drive to the new house, instead to the one that he’d grown up in. Blaine was a little apprehensive, because he hadn’t technically met Burt yet, despite loving the man more than he loved his own parents. And he was too tired to want to figure out how to introduce himself to someone that he saw as his father-in-law.</p><p>Kurt patted his hand absently, pulling into the driveway and giving his husband-boyfriend-whatever a long look. “Baby, it’s fine. You’re going to take a nap. I’ll explain to my dad whatever I need to, and then I’ll drop you off at Wes’s place. Okay?”</p><p>“What a day for first impressions,” Blaine muttered, rubbing at his eyes. Insomnia sucked. Massively. </p><p>Kurt smiled. “We’ll worry about impressions later. Frankly, I think the impression you made on New Directions was better than the first time, anyway.”</p><p>Blaine rolled his eyes. “What? Telling them about my past? Yeah, because that puts me in the best light there.”</p><p>Kurt leaned over the center console and pressed his lips to Blaine’s cheek. “Maybe not. But it’s something they needed to hear. Maybe things can change at McKinley and it will actually be safe if you decide to transfer again.” </p><p>Blaine nodded, heard the if in that statement and didn’t question it. He knew, just as Kurt knew, how much of a safe haven Dalton really was for him. Transferring was something he was likely to do again, but perhaps he’d have a different take on it this time. You never knew, after all. </p><p>Burt wasn’t home yet, which was fine by both boys. Kurt dropped his bag off in his room, returning to watch as Blaine shed his blazer and tie and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. “You want anything to eat, honey?” Kurt asked, and Blaine shook his head, dropping onto the couch and rubbing at his face. He glanced up at Kurt with big, pouty eyes and Kurt smiled. “Cuddles?”</p><p>“Please?”</p><p>“Fine.” Kurt sat down, leaning back against the armrest and opened his arms. Blaine immediately curled up against his chest, tucking his head under Kurt’s chin and tangling their legs together in a completely familiar and comforting position. </p><p>“You’re so small,” Blaine whispered, a hint of a smirk on his face as he nuzzled closer.</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes. “I’m still going to be taller than you, baby. Don’t forget.” Blaine hummed softly, dropping back into sleep. Kurt made a note to mention it to Wes, how Blaine slept so much better when he was being held. Blaine had never mentioned it the first time around, until Kurt had realized just how touch-starved the boy actually was, and how much his PTSD actually affected his daily life. Or nightly life? Whatever. The point of the matter was that Blaine could actually get some of the help he needed earlier this time around. Before they both made mistakes that ended with cheating and break ups and broken hearts.</p><p>Man, that had been a mess. Kurt stroked Blaine’s back, fiddling a bit with the top two buttons of Blaine’s shirt, undoing them to make him more comfortable. When they had finally, finally talked about what had happened, Kurt had realized just how many mistakes they had both made that had led to Blaine’s bad decisions. He wouldn’t take credit for the actual act of cheating, but he’d seen where Blaine was coming from, in the end. The silence between the two, his own selfishness, and not realizing just how fractured his lover had really been; that had been on Kurt. </p><p>
  <em>“I’ve spent my whole life loving people who don’t love me back, Kurt,” Blaine had said. “I’ve made an artform out of it. And sometimes, when I know I’m going to be thrown away again, I need to have a reason for it. You wanted an out. I gave you one.”</em>
</p><p>He hadn’t wanted an out, but, in retrospect, he could see why Blaine had thought he had. And then they’d talked about how incredibly unhealthy of a mindset that really was for Blaine to have. </p><p>It wouldn’t happen again. Now, with the memories and the wishes, they knew exactly where they stood with each other. Even now, with Blaine fast asleep on his chest, Kurt could feel his love, warm and deep and fathomless in his chest. Blaine’s last wish, apparently, was more encompassing than they had realized. It felt like a hug, almost, but internal and comforting. He kind of reveled in it, to be honest.</p><p>Kurt spent the next two hours cuddling Blaine and reading his history book to catch up on the report he was pretty sure was due next week. Blaine, for his part, slept peacefully, his hands lightly clasping Kurt’s vest and his breathing deep and calm. Kurt almost startled when the door opened, but instead smoothed a hand down Blaine’s back, keeping him asleep as he looked up to smile at his dad, who was watching the two of them with an unreadable look. </p><p>“Hey Dad,” Kurt said softly. “How was work?”</p><p>“Fine,” Burt said, moving into the room and sitting in the chair opposite them. “Who’s this?”</p><p>Kurt kept his smile firmly on his face. “This is Blaine. He’s my boyfriend.” He held up one hand when his father opened his mouth. “And I know that I probably should have mentioned him before, but he’s had a rough day and needed to actually sleep for once.”</p><p>Burt eyed the two and said nothing for a long while. “Why haven’t I ever heard of this Blaine…”</p><p>“Anderson.”</p><p>“Before now?” Burt asked. There was something about the way that his son was holding this new boy that spoke to Burt and made him feel a lot calmer than he thought he would have initially. Also, he knew that Kurt wasn’t one to deliberately hide from him, or to engage in illicit behavior or anything, so finding out he had a boyfriend by seeing said boy being cuddled was…not what he had been expecting.</p><p>Kurt just smiled, still calm and in control. There wasn’t an ounce of fear, irritation or nervousness in him, and Burt saw that and wondered at it. It had been a long time that Kurt had been so comfortable, even at home. “Blaine goes to Dalton Academy. It’s about half an hour from here and is an all-boy’s boarding school. We met at the Lima Bean and hit it off and started dating not long after. We don’t get to see each other often, really, but have been dating for a couple weeks?” He paused, his hand moving to the back of Blaine’s neck when he shifted in his sleep, soothing the boy again. “He came down to help me with a problem at school, but it turns out that Dalton had been evacuated anyway due to a prank, so he just stayed after.”</p><p>Burt nodded slowly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “And the reason he needed sleep?” He’d have rather introduced himself to the kid himself, not have him dead asleep on their first meeting.</p><p>Kurt’s eyes grew a little more shadowed and he sighed softly. “Did you know that PTSD can cause insomnia?” he asked, instead of actually answering. He took a deep breath then, tilting his head to study his father. “Dad, I hadn’t mentioned Blaine to anyone. Not to you, or Mercedes or Finn or anyone. At first because it was new, and exciting, and something that I had just for me, and I didn’t know if it was going to last or not. After a bit, it was because I was just used to it being just the two of us and I hadn’t really thought about it, to be honest.”</p><p>He was making this up on the fly. He’d been with Blaine for what? Five years? Six? Forever? Give or take some hiccups in there. But he couldn’t say that. He couldn’t explain soulmates and time travel without looking like a complete basket case. </p><p>Burt was silent for a long moment, just staring at his son and his son’s boyfriend. And then, “Does he make you happy?” he asked gruffly.</p><p>Kurt’s smile turned a little wistful. “Extremely so,” he answered softly.</p><p>Burt nodded. “And are you safe with him?” he questioned. </p><p>Kurt tilted his head, letting his eyes fall shut. “Yes,” he answered. “As safe as I can be.” He paused, knowing what his father had meant by that question, but deciding to answer it in entirety. “Blaine would never hurt me, but he’s not the ones we’re worried about,” he said softly. His eyes opened and met his father’s. “There’s a reason he has PTSD, Dad. We won’t really be safe for as long as we’re in small-town Ohio.”</p><p>Burt’s lips pursed at that, and Kurt knew that he got it. At least somewhat understanding the hint that Kurt had given him. Burt studied the boy a little closer, his eyes this time picking up the faint scars that littered one arm. He knew what surgical scars looked like, and Blaine seemed to have quite a few on that arm. He wouldn’t doubt that there were other scars hidden beneath his clothes. He gave a short nod. “You said his school was evacuated? His boarding school?”</p><p>Kurt nodded. “Yeah. I’m going to drop him off at a friend’s house for the rest of the weekend. It’s better if he doesn’t have to go home.”</p><p>Great. Another allusion to a hard life. Burt sighed and got to his feet. “Okay. I’d like to actually meet him sometime, but he’s welcome here, bud.” Burt made his way to his room for a shower, still dirty from working at the garage. Tonight was family dinner night, and Carole and Finn had been invited, after all.</p><p>“Thanks Dad,” Kurt said. He really did love his dad. He wished that all parents could be that great.</p><p>Blaine woke about ten minutes later, yawning and pawing at his eyes. “Hi,” he whispered, blinking up at Kurt sleepily. “Your dad home?”</p><p>“Yes,” Kurt smiled back. “He’s taking a shower. Says you’re welcome any time,” he replied. “You feeling better?”</p><p>Blaine sat up, stretching. “Yeah. Geez. I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “How the heck did I survive this last time?” he asked, speaking of the PTSD and insomnia and everything that came with the two. </p><p>“Poorly,” Kurt answered, gently patting him on the back. “And this time around we’re better informed and will make better decisions. Like not driving to Lima after not sleeping for days on end.” He gave a small smile, giving Blaine’s cheek a gentle kiss. “Now, once I actually introduce you to my father, we’ll get you to Wes’s house and we can both figure out exactly what is going on here.” </p><p>“Still don’t want to be away from you,” Blaine grumbled, getting to his feet. They could hear Burt moving about the house, and Blaine wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted to meet the man yet, despite knowing that Kurt had explained to him something. Not the truth, fully, of course not, but something. </p><p>“I know, baby,” Kurt said, gathering him into a hug. Blaine was so rarely anything but confident and happy; this time-travel episode seems to have really thrown him for a loop. Kurt didn’t mind too much, though, and vowed that they’d get through this and they’d have their Happily Ever After. “Now come on,” he said, pulling them two of them to the door. “Up and at ‘em. We need to get you to Wes’s house before Finn and Carole get here for dinner.”</p><p>“Right, Friday night family dinner,” Blaine said. He used to have a standing invitation, and would probably have one again soon. It was early days yet, though. He gave Kurt a smile, gathering his blazer and tie. </p><p>“Dad! I have to drive Blaine to Wes’s house! I’ll be back in about an hour!” Kurt called into the depths of the house.</p><p>“Just a minute kiddo!” came the answering call. And then Burt emerged, striding forward and holding a hand out to Blaine. “Hey there. Burt Hummel. Nice to meet the man that’s stolen my boy’s heart.”</p><p>Blaine smiled, shaking his hand. “Blaine Anderson. And Kurt stole mine first, sir.”</p><p>Burt rolled his eyes. “No. Uh-uh. Name’s Burt. Not sir. Not Mr. Hummel. Burt.” </p><p>Blaine gave a soft laugh. “Sure, Burt,” he said, and turned to look at Kurt who had appeared at his shoulder. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer, but Wes is expecting me.”</p><p>“No problem, buddy,” Burt replied, instantly at ease with the boy in front of him. Blaine Anderson didn’t look like he could hurt a fly, while simultaneously looking like someone who would fight to the death for someone he loved. Burt could get behind that; he was the exact same way. “I’ll see you soon, I’m sure.”</p><p>Blaine gave a nod and a goodbye, allowing himself to be ushered out of the house by a slightly impatient Kurt, who was really looking forward to dinner that night. He hadn’t been able to make it home for a Friday night dinner for a couple months now, or then, or…okay. Whatever. He managed to get Blaine into the car, although noticed how twitchy it made him and sighed. That crash was really going to throw a spanner in the works.</p><p>Obviously.</p><p>“Okay,” Kurt said a few minutes into the drive, reaching over to pull Blaine’s hand from his mouth. That was a habit that he wasn’t happy to see coming back, since Blaine’s therapist had equated it to self-harm at one point. Granted, Blaine didn’t usually mean it like that, and more as a grounding mechanism when his anxiety was beginning to make him spiral, but still... “This weekend we should write down everything we remember from the past couple years. See if we can’t make plans to circumvent some of the larger problems.”</p><p>Blaine nodded, tapping his fingers against his thighs. “Yay for foreknowledge,” he said. He was silent for a moment and then looked over at Kurt with a small smile. “You know how you didn’t try out for the Project Runway Amateurs Competition after your senior year? Because you were focused on trying to get into NYADA and didn’t put a portfolio together?” Kurt nodded. “You could actually try for that this time.”</p><p>That was true. Kurt had been so focused on NYADA that he hadn’t tried for anything else. Now, with more time behind him and more wisdom he had realized that Broadway wasn’t actually what he wanted in life. Fashion was his actual passion, and while he loved singing and performing, there wasn’t really a niche for him on the stage. In fact, the most fun he’d had performing was while working with Blaine. </p><p>“That’s a good point,” Kurt said, giving Blaine a smile. “And you can work on getting your record deal.” Which was something that Blaine had been negotiating before their honeymoon. He had found that the stage wasn’t really for him either, actually. He loved performing, loved the thrill of singing. But acting wasn’t his thing, really, and he’d rather just focus on the music. Besides, he loved creating and writing more than he did working on other people’s work.</p><p>Kurt gave a short sigh, taking a turn on the road. “Can it be considered cheating, though? I technically have a clothing line, and you’re already technically somewhat famous singing…”</p><p>“Except we’re not and we don’t,” Blaine pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “We’re just kids. Teenagers. We haven’t even graduated from high school yet and have no real-life experience with fashion or records or anything.”</p><p>“Huh.” Kurt pulled into Wes’s driveway, having been there often enough in the past to know where it was, even if Wes hadn’t actually given him his address yet. He parked and got out, pulling Blaine to his side as they walked up to the front door. Wes was waiting, having apparently seen them pull in. Kurt smiled at him, and turned to Blaine, cupping his husband-boyfriend’s face with his hands and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Remember to write it all down, honey. You’ll be okay. And try to get some sleep.”</p><p>Wes raised an eyebrow, his jaw dropping just a little. “Alright? Has Blainers been holding out on us?”</p><p>Kurt laughed and Blaine gave him a little smile. “Hello again Wes.” The countertenor turned to face the Warbler fully. “Blaine was helping me with an issue and doesn’t actually have anything from his dorm with him. He’s also just a tad bit panicky, so, have fun with that.” </p><p>“Thanks, Kurt,” Blaine said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be fine,” he said to Wes, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. </p><p>“Sure,” Wes nodded, eyes narrowing slightly. He knew, at least, how much trouble Blaine had when it came to sleeping. Blaine was very good about keeping his walls up, especially at Dalton, but Wes had always been the one to see behind them. And right now, it didn’t look like those walls were holding up well at all.</p><p>Kurt turned back to Blaine and pulled him into a sweet kiss. “Love you, baby,” he whispered. “I’ll drop your car off at Dalton before Warblers practice on Monday.”</p><p>“Love you too,” Blaine muttered and watched as Kurt walked away. He startled slightly as Wes hit his shoulder, turning to him with wide eyes.</p><p>“Oh, we have a lot to talk about, you and I,” Wes said with a slightly demented grin. Blaine just barely held back his groan, having forgotten just how gossipy the senior Warbler could get. </p><p>It was going to be a long weekend.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurt really should have expected the third degree after dinner. He knew his father better than to have expected him to take a surprise boyfriend as well as he had. He hadn’t even threatened Blaine to his face, although that could have been due to how shaky Blaine had been. And, clearly, Finn had filled both his mother and Kurt’s father in on the little he knew about the boy while Kurt had been out.</p><p>Finn had also left dinner a little early, to go have a gaming marathon with Artie, Sam and Puck. Which was good, really, because Kurt had been seated in the living room and subjected to The Talk. Which…yeah. He was fully informed on all aspects of such, thank you very much. He’d been married for over a year…and been with Blaine for so much longer than that. He’d had to come up with all the reasons why his relationship with Blaine was not based solely on the physical aspects of relationships. Which had, of course, gotten him thinking about the physical aspects of relationships.</p><p>Blaine was a very touchy-feely person once you got past his obvious boundaries. Kurt was fully aware that it had to do with his obviously touch-starved nature. But the boy loved being touched, held, cuddled, <em>pinned</em>…and yeah, there were those pesky hormones.</p><p>Yay for being a teenager again. </p><p>Both Burt and Carole meant well, and Kurt adored them for it. He knew that his entire relationship seemed a little suspect, considering he and Blaine had technically only known each other for a matter of two weeks (even if he had been a little vague on the exact amount of time). The rapid-fire questioning session had almost made him laugh though. He wasn’t sure if they were trying to figure out how much he knew about Blaine, or if they were trying to find out more about him for themselves.</p><p>“Favorite color?”</p><p>“Red.”</p><p>“Coffee order?”</p><p>“Medium Drip.”</p><p>“Favorite movie?”</p><p>“Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”</p><p>“Sport’s Team?”</p><p>“Buckeyes.”</p><p>“Instruments?”</p><p>“Piano. Guitar. Violin. Kazoo.”</p><p>“Wait…kazoo?”</p><p>“You asked.”</p><p>“Fine. Favorite musical?”</p><p>“Right now? <em>In The Heights</em>.” Because <em>Hadestown</em> hasn’t been written yet. Or <em>Hamilton</em>. Or <em>Be More Chill</em>. Or <em>Dear Evan Hansen</em>. Or…geez…okay. They had a lot to look forward to, didn’t they?</p><p>“Any pets?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Siblings?”</p><p>“Older brother.” Needed to remind Blaine to try and fix that relationship before next year, hopefully.</p><p>“Favorite food?”</p><p>“Pancakes.” Or syrup…with the amount that boy put on his pancakes, Kurt was suspicious that it was actually syrup that was his favorite.</p><p>“Bilingual?”</p><p>“Polyglot, actually.”</p><p>“…what?”</p><p>“He speaks like…five languages? It’s really kind of funny when he forgets his English,” Kurt grinned. It wasn’t, actually, but that was for an entirely different reason. “Considering English is like his third language or something.”</p><p>Burt and Carole both stared at him for a long moment before exchanging knowing looks. “Okay, kiddo,” Burt finally grunted. “Looks like you really do know this boy well.”</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes. “I did tell you.” He heaved a sigh. “You know, I’m not that much younger than you were when you met Mom,” he pointed out. He gave Carole a slightly apologetic look but she just smiled at him. “I love Blaine, Dad,” he said, and rolled his eyes when Burt was about to say something. “I know, I know. It’s too early. You’re too young. You don’t know what love is yet. Whatever. Fact of the matter is, Dad, that Blaine is it for me. He’s endgame. I already know that.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~</p>
</div>Blaine really should have expected the third degree when he finally sat down with Wes after dinner. Wes’s parents were in New York or Boston or somewhere, so the house was empty besides the two of them. Blaine really was grateful that the senior had let him stay the weekend, but he shouldn’t have expected otherwise. Wes had practically adopted Blaine from the moment he showed up at Dalton.<p>David had as well, for that matter. He was a junior though, to Wes’s senior status and Blaine’s sophomore. Ironically, they were all the same age, since Wes had skipped a year, and Blaine had repeated one. Nick and Jeff and Trent and Thad were also great friends scattered throughout the junior and sophomore years, but Blaine would always love Wes and David for being there for him without question.</p><p>Wes definitely had questions now, though. Rapid fire ones, as he tried to figure out just what Blaine knew about their endearing spy. Blaine, of course, had talked about Kurt in the two weeks since they’d met him, but he hadn’t mentioned much more than that he was still seeing the kid. So, this whole relationship, and how deep it seemed to be, was a little odd to Wes. </p><p>“Favorite color?”</p><p>“Blue.”</p><p>“Favorite food?”</p><p>“Raspberry cheesecake ice cream. But only on special occasions.”</p><p>“Favorite animal?”</p><p>“Cat.” They had been talking about adopting one. Blaine adored them as well.</p><p>“Instruments?”</p><p>“Piano.”</p><p>“Languages?”</p><p>“French. Some Spanish.” But it seemed that gift that the Fates had given them, that there could be no misunderstandings, meant that Kurt had understood Blaine’s mutterings in Tagalog, even if he couldn’t speak it back.</p><p>“Career choice?”</p><p>“Fashion.”</p><p>“How the heck do you know so much about him?” Wes finally asked, having gone through so many more questions over the course of an hour. “You met him at the same time we did.”</p><p>Blaine was silent for a long moment, absently fiddling with the ring that he was pretty sure Wes couldn’t actually see. How was he supposed to answer that without seeming like a complete loon? He couldn’t say that he’d been dating and married to the man for five plus years, and that they’d come back in time after dying tragically. That just…wouldn’t do at all. “Do you believe in soulmates?” he finally asked, glancing upwards with a half-smile. </p><p>Wes heaved a sigh and threw himself dramatically back into the couch cushions. “Really, dude? That’s what you’re going to go with?”</p><p>Blaine shrugged, a grin stealing onto his face. “Kurt’s it, man. He’s endgame.”</p><p>Wes gave him a long look and then rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Whatever.” Blaine would have been slightly offended if not for the small smile on his friend’s face. Wes got it, kind of. And that was good enough.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~</p>
</div><strong> To Kurt: </strong> <em>Yippee for near-perfect recall.</em><p>
  <strong> From Kurt: I know, right? Those wishes seem to really be a thing.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I wonder exactly what that means when it comes to the other ones.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Who knows. You get everything written down?</strong>
</p><p><em>Yeah. All the important stuff. Don’t know how things are going to change with you not coming to Dalton this time though.</em> </p><p>
  <strong>I’m sorry. That’s probably going to throw off your Regionals performance. I won’t be there to duet with you.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Maybe Nick and Jeff can do it? We have to make it to Regionals first.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>We’ll probably tie again. Let’s be honest. The Warblers are amazing. I have to deal with a substitute issue and make sure my dad actually proposes this time too.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>He adores Carole, so that shouldn’t be a problem.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>I adore Carole too. Even if she and Dad decided to give me The Talk tonight.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh geez. I’m sorry.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>You’re totally laughing at me right now.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I am.</em>
</p><p><strong>Well…at least there wasn’t toast involved.</strong> </p><p>
  <em>Lol</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>It’s getting late. You should try to sleep.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I hate sleep.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>No you don’t. Sleep hates you. Just go cuddle with Wes or something.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>…I’m not sure if you’re serious or not. Come on, Kurt. Really?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Goodnight, love.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Night.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It’s not about sex, Tina,” Kurt said irritably, refusing to hide his face in his hands. “Any good relationship should be about more than sex. You should know that with how long you and Mike have been going out. Surely it’s not all about sex for you.”</p><p>He was seated in Breadstix, surrounded by Rachel, Mercedes and Tina. Rachel had immediately tried to equate his relationship to hers with Jesse St. James, and Kurt had shut her down with a glare so bitchy that even Mercedes had flinched. Somehow, the girls had gotten it into their heads that he and Blaine were in it for purely physical reasons. He figured it was the stereotype about gay guys that seemed to run rampant through small-minded places such as Lima, Ohio. </p><p>“Kurt, honey,” Mercedes started, giving him a placating look. “A week ago you couldn’t even say the word sex without blushing. Now you’re just discussing it willingly?”</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes. “For crying out loud, girls,” he muttered. He gave a sigh, glanced at his phone to see that only half an hour had actually gone by and he didn’t actually have an excuse to leave, and then tilted his head to one side. “Blaine and I haven’t had sex. We’ve kissed. We’ve made out. We will eventually have sex. We will eventually move in with each other and get married and all sorts of things. But for us, this isn’t just a physical relationship. It’s about trust. And companionship. And just enjoying being in each other’s company. He can watch a football game and I can be cooking and we don’t even have to say a word to each other, but we’re both happy.” Okay, stretching the truth a little there, but he had to take their newly teenage bodies into account here.</p><p>There was a moment of silence as the girls all absorbed this. “That’s…really sweet, Kurt,” Tina said with a small, wistful smile. “That kind of sounds like a dream.”</p><p>“I thought so too,” Kurt replied. “I thought it was an unattainable dream, especially in Ohio. And before anyone says that high-school relationships don’t last, or that I shouldn’t put that much thought into a boy I only met a few weeks ago, I know. I get where you’re coming from. I also know where I’m coming from.”</p><p>Kurt’s phone chimed and he smiled when he saw a message from Blaine. It amused him sometimes, how the two of them had perfect grammar when texting. And spelling. They hadn’t always, but had somehow both fallen into that habit with each other and never stopped. It made it all the more amusing when they realized just how fast they could actually get these texts out, especially in the future when touch-screens were so much better than the phones they had now. Geez, he couldn’t wait for the iPhone to update; Kurt was really beginning to miss aspects of the future.</p><p>
  <em>Wes is very irritating. He’s like a dog with a bone. He did, however promise to keep our relationship secret for now.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>You sure? The Warblers wouldn’t care, would they?</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Not so much. I think they’d be more shocked than anything. I don’t let anyone touch me other than Wes and David, remember? And we’re very…tactile.</em>
</p><p>Yeah, okay, that was true. Even when Kurt had transferred, he’d seen just how removed Blaine was from everyone else. Everyone liked him, he was well respected, and a lot of the younger kids practically worshipped the ground he walked on. But he didn’t touch anyone, didn’t join conversations unless explicitly invited, and didn’t really hang around much outside of classes. He had his walls, and Kurt had very methodically worn them down so by the time they had started dating no one was actually surprised by it.</p><p>“Kurt?” Mercedes interrupted his thought process. Her eyebrow was raised. “Your man text you?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes and sliding his phone away. “On that note. Can one of you drive up to Dalton with me after school on Monday? I need to drop Blaine’s car off, and I’d like to be able to get back home. I’ll treat you to coffee?”</p><p>With those plans made, Mercedes being happy to make the trip, they split ways. Rachel was still sulking, sure that Blaine was only in the relationship to steal their nonexistent setlist, but none of the others really cared. And Kurt was getting tired of the questioning anyway. He had other thing to worry about.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~</p>
</div><strong>Thank you for the “hug”.</strong><p>
  <em>You’re welcome? I just felt like you needed a hug, so I tried sending you a mental one? If that makes sense.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>It makes perfect sense if you take into account our wishes. The ones about always knowing how much we love each other and the one about being able to support each other. Thanks.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>What’s wrong that you needed a hug so bad that I felt it?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Oh…just life. Went to the mall, ran into some jocks. Forgot about that.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m sorry.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>I love you.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Love you too.</em>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~</p>
</div><em>Why is this weekend so long? I’m so bored. Wes was annoying me so I locked him in a closet and now there’s nothing to do.</em><p>
  <strong>Wait, what? You locked him in a closet?</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>That is entirely not the part of my text you were supposed to focus on.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>It’s the one I’m focusing on. Let him out.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Why?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Blaine.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Fine.</em>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~</p>
</div><strong>My closet looks so outdated now. And it’s not.</strong><p>
  <em>Oh shoot. I just realized I will no longer be wearing Kurt Hummel exclusives. I’m actually gonna have to dress myself.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>I like how you dress.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>In high school? Outside of the uniform? Honey, I was the nerdiest nerd to ever nerd.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>I like your bowties.</strong>
</p><p><em>Same.</em> </p><p>
  <strong>And your bright colors.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>True.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>But you’re right about the nerd.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Gee thanks.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Sexy nerd?</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Better.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>I’ll help you update your wardrobe if you like. But you’re keeping the bowties.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>:o)</em>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~</p>
</div><strong>Oh my Gaga. The Drama.</strong><p>
  <em>New Directions stuff?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>How? How in the world…what the heck is in the water here?</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>…what’s happened in the two hours since I last heard from you?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Doesn’t matter. What’s up with you?</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>David’s here. Wes immediately told him about us. So much for secrets.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>You didn’t honestly expect him to keep this secret from David though right?</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Was it too much to hope he’d try?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>I love you.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Love you too.</em>

</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~</p>
</div><p>
 Kurt scrambled sleepily for his phone before its ringing could wake up anyone else in the house. Basement or not, sound carried. “Lo?” he said, his voice a bit groggy.
</p><p>
“Kurt?”
</p><p>
  He glanced at the clock. “Oh honey. It’s almost three.”
</p><p>
  “…I’m sorry.”
</p><p>
  “Please?”
</p><p>
  “Blackbird again?” There wasn’t much of an answer, just a soft noise. Nightmare then, not insomnia this time. That made things a bit worse, actually. “Okay.”
</p><p>
  And so he sang.
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Monday couldn’t have gone on longer. Kurt had been tired, having sung to Blaine at three in the morning, and then tried to get the boy to actually talk to him. It didn’t work, it never did over the phone, and Kurt should have known better than to have tried.</p><p>So, Kurt was feeling a little sleep deprived, not wanting to deal with the Drama of glee club, and trying to remember exactly what day it was that Mr. Schue was going to get sick so that he could have Ms. Holliday lined up and ready to take over before someone tried to murder Rachel. Also, he had bowling with Mercedes this weekend, but the Rent revival was also this weekend and he had enjoyed that.</p><p>Decisions, decisions. </p><p>Sometimes Kurt really wished he could have a drink. But he was sixteen again (almost seventeen!) so that would be illegal. Not to mention that since they had figured out that alcohol and Blaine really, really did not mix and Blaine had been sober fifteen months, Kurt had also been sober for fifteen months. Blaine’s therapist had been very proud of them both for that one. </p><p>Okay…so maybe Blaine’s therapist also kind of doubled as Kurt’s therapist at times. They all had their own issues.</p><p>Mercedes was driving him back home today, so he’d talk to her after she picked him up from Dalton in about an hour. Maybe Blaine could get an extra ticket to the play, and the three of them could go together. He was pretty sure they could work it so that Cedes wouldn’t feel like a third wheel; they’d gotten pretty good at that. </p><p>They were well past the honeymoon stage of their relationship, even if they had just been on their actual honeymoon.</p><p>Kurt parked Blaine’s car in its usual spot and wandered into the main school building, heading for the Warbler’s practice room. It would be empty about now, unless Wes was in there. Blaine didn’t have a class this next hour either and would be meeting Kurt in the practice room before it filled with Warblers. Kurt, though, looked around in nostalgia, fond memories of the place taking over his mind.</p><p>He didn’t need directions, obviously. He’d lived in Stanton Hall, dorming with the other Warblers, who all lived in the same dorm building. There were few clubs that roomed together like that, but the Warblers did since they had competitions, had gone to Nationals a few times, and the faculty had decided it was easier to deal with them if they were all in one place. (And, honestly, the dorms were set up almost like twin-bed hotel rooms, for the most part, with each room having it's own bathroom and little desk areas. Kurt honestly believed that a lot of the cost of the school went into the water bill...) The other dorming halls, Weston Hall and Cleary Hall, were nearby but Kurt had never actually entered those buildings. </p><p>Maybe this time they could keep the place from burning down. He didn’t know how, exactly, but Dalton was incredibly important to Blaine, whether he was able to stay there or not.</p><p>Kurt entered the Warbler’s practice room, absently checking his phone and noting the time. Blaine would be out of class in about ten minutes or so. Wes, as Kurt had kind of expected, was already in the room, giving him an arched look that was only betrayed by his twinkling eyes. Kurt rolled his own, primly sitting himself down on one of the leather couches. “Hello, Wes.”</p><p>“Hello Kurt,” Wes said, his face stretching into a grin.</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes again. “Okay. Ask your questions. I know you want to.”</p><p>Wes opened his mouth, probably to ask something embarrassing, and then closed it again, the smile falling just a little. “He woke up screaming last night,” he said softly, instead. “I know he called you. How did you get him to calm down?”</p><p>Kurt stared at him for a moment, not entirely sure how to answer that question. He hadn’t expected that, of all things. “I sang to him,” he replied softly. He swallowed. “Blaine sleeps better when he’s being held, for the record. I know he has a single room, due to his PTSD-“</p><p>“He told you about that?” Wes interrupted, and Kurt was suddenly reminded that Wes was the only person at this school, aside from the counselor, headmaster, and the nurse, that knew exactly why Blaine was a sophomore and not a junior, and why he had a single room instead of a roommate, and why he was so distant with people.</p><p>Kurt nodded. “He did.” There was a short silence as they both gathered their thoughts. “Honestly, Wes, Blaine is extremely touch-starved. He sleeps better when someone’s there.”</p><p>“Blaine doesn’t <em>let</em> anyone touch him,” Wes said, flopping into a nearby chair. “He still flinches if David or I catch him off guard.”</p><p>“I didn’t say it was easy,” Kurt grumbled. “<em>Of course</em> he hates being touched. Especially by surprise. Just work on it, will you. And don’t let him chew on his hand, if at all possible.”</p><p>“Yeah, I’d noticed that,” Wes agreed. </p><p>They fell into a comfortable silence, Wes clearly pondering something heavily, and Kurt allowing him the space to do so. The door opened and Blaine stepped in, shutting it behind him as he dropped his bag to the ground. The boy threw his head back with a loud groan, almost yelling, “I hate school!”</p><p>“No, you don’t,” Wes countered immediately, rolling his eyes.</p><p>“Nerdiest nerd to ever nerd,” Kurt smiled, eyebrow raised. “Your words, love.”</p><p>Blaine grumbled something under his breath and trudged forward until he flopped face first onto the couch, and subsequently Kurt. Kurt just caught him with a pained “Oof” and a quiet groan of “Blaine…” Blaine just kept grumbling under his breath, tucking his head into Kurt’s neck and curling up on his chest. Kurt held him securely, listening to the grumbles despite them not being in English, or all in English as he was switching languages quite fluidly. </p><p>Wes just sat and watched the two of them. He noticed how Blaine didn’t shy away from the touches that Kurt was giving him, how he seemed to relax fully, more than he had ever done around any of them. How Kurt was smiling softly, content and comfortable despite being practically smothered by the slightly smaller teen. How both of them hadn’t forgotten that he was in the room but didn’t seem to care about that anyway.</p><p>How they were wearing matching rings one second, but they were gone the next.</p><p>Soulmates indeed.</p><p>When Blaine dozed off ten minutes later, Wes and Kurt started a comfortable conversation about Broadway and the importance of gender equality on the stage. Wes, who loved music but was interested in becoming a lawyer, was fascinated by Kurt’s insights. He was almost tempted to take notes.</p><p>When it was ten minutes until the other Warblers were set to arrive, Kurt shook Blaine awake, slid Blaine’s keys into his pocket and kissed his boyfriend senseless. Wes snickered in the background, but they ignored him, focused entirely on each other because who knew if they’d get to see each other again before the weekend. This being apart thing sucked, despite the warm-hug-love that they got to keep with them at all times.</p><p>Kurt left Blaine as a happy puddle on the couch, Wes laughing at him, and slipped through the hallways and grounds until he made it to Mercedes’s car. She was waiting patiently for him and grinned at the sappy smile on his face. “You kiss your Boo goodbye?”</p><p>“Did I ever,” Kurt said with a sardonic grin. “You have fun at the mall?”</p><p>“I found myself a great jacket, so yes,” Mercedes answered. “Now. Bowling this weekend. You and me. You’re gonna tell me everything about this boy that’s suddenly in your life.”</p><p>Kurt sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “Or, I could just tell you now. And we could possibly see a revival of Rent this weekend. Blaine’s trying to get the three of us tickets.”</p><p>Mercedes raised an eyebrow and shot him a look. “The three of us?” she asked, sounding a little disbelieving.</p><p>“Does it surprise you that my boyfriend wants to meet my best friend?” he asked, raising an eyebrow back. “Yes. The three of us. And if he can’t get the tickets then we’ll go bowling.” He sighed. “Last Friday was an off day for him. It really was. You’ll like him, I promise.”</p><p>Mercedes was quiet, focusing on driving. “You’re different lately, Kurt,” she finally said quietly. “Since Friday, I’ve noticed. You’re calmer. Happier.” She shrugged. “He’s good for you, white boy.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Kurt whispered.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurt had giggled for days over the texts Wes had sent him soon after he had left Dalton. Apparently, Kurt wasn’t allowed to kiss Blaine like that before rehearsals anymore, since he was a useless pile of jelly afterwards. And if he even dared to kiss him before a competition, Wes would personally lock him in a closet somewhere far away from the stage.</p><p>Blaine hadn’t complained at all, though, so whatever.</p><p>Actually, Blaine had managed to get six tickets to the show on Friday and had recommended that Finn and Rachel could be two of the ones that went with him, Blaine and Mercedes. It was just the last ticket that they were trying to find a person for, and Blaine kind of hoped that Sam would be willing to go, because he really missed his best straight friend.</p><p>It was only Wednesday but Kurt had managed to get Holly Holliday on board for when Mr. Schue had gotten sick yesterday, before Rachel could try to take over. And he’d managed to stay out of the way of most of the Neanderthals in the halls, especially Karofsky, which he hadn’t actually figured out how to handle yet. He’d agreed with Blaine that Dave wasn’t actually a bad guy, once he got his head on straight, but still…they had a way to go.</p><p>Unfortunately, he hadn’t managed to fully dodge that last slushy, and his pants were now soggy and stained. They had third hour glee right now, and Blaine was in study hall, or rather, Blaine was in his dorm skipping study hall because of a persistent headache, and Kurt was quite happily talking on the phone with him as he headed to the choir room to change his pants before the class actually started.</p><p>He didn’t even care that there were others in the room, already waiting for the class to begin, just eyed them for a moment and shrugged, toeing off his shoes. “Gonna put you on speaker for a minute, baby, so I can change my pants.”</p><p>“Aren’t you in the choir room, K?” Blaine’s voice asked over the phone, sounding just a little confused. “And here I thought you had a least <em>some</em> sense of modesty.” There was a blatant laughing tone to that sentence. Modesty didn’t last long in a college filled with theater kids, even if Kurt had eventually changed majors.</p><p>“Modesty is for pussies,” Kurt snickered, placing his phone on the piano and stripping out of his white skinny jeans. He was glad that his black boxer-briefs were generic enough that they wouldn’t cause anyone any more embarrassment than normal. Although, he could kind of see the shocked looks of his friends at his sudden disregard for propriety. He didn’t even change around others in the locker room, after all.</p><p>Blaine laughed. “What about my baby penguin?”</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes, ignoring the fact that Brittany, Puck and Artie were essentially watching him change clothes. “The baby penguin is well and truly dead, B.”</p><p>“Noo!” Blaine cried in mock distress. “Not my baby penguin! How could you, Kurt?!”</p><p>“I blame global warming,” Kurt deadpanned.</p><p>Blaine snorted. “I’m blaming the toast,” he countered, and Kurt broke into loud, free laughter. Finn, Rachel and Quinn had just entered the room, as he was shimmying into another pair of extremely tight pants, and really, why did he do this to himself? </p><p>Oh right. Because he looked freaking good in them.</p><p>He took his stained pants and gave a small sigh. “Well, these are probably a loss. I should have known better than to wear white pants,” he said, folding them to stash in his bag.</p><p>“Hmm,” Blaine hummed. “Ice chips?” he asked.</p><p>Kurt froze, looking at the pants in his hands. “Huh,” he grunted softly. “I hadn’t even thought of that.” Ice Chips had been the name he’d given one of his first collections, having based it all off the slushy bullying in high school. White clothes stained with colorful dye. It’d been a cathartic collection, more for his own peace of mind, but one that had actually gotten him noticed at Vogue. “Thanks, B.”</p><p>“No prob,” Blaine replied. And then there was a slight commotion on his side of the phone. “Chad! What did I tell you—” he broke off with a heavy sigh. “Why am I the head of the Freshmore hall again?” he asked Kurt, sounding very tired all of a sudden. Blaine was, in fact, the head of the second floor of the Stanton Hall dorm building, the first floor holding the kitchen, living room, den and a couple study rooms. Freshman and Sophomores were on the second floor, while Juniors and Seniors were on the top.</p><p>“Because you’re the most responsible?” Kurt asked back, sliding the pants into his bag and picking his phone back up. He didn’t bother taking it off speaker; the others in the room were blatantly eavesdropping, if you could call it that while the conversation was so open. He didn’t want to deny them the opportunity to get to know Blaine just a little better.</p><p>“Honestly, I think it’s because I’m the only one who remembers where the fire extinguishers are,” Blaine grumbled.</p><p>Kurt smirked, looking down at his phone. “Isn’t that what I just said?”</p><p>“Har de har, Hummel,” Blaine replied, still grumbling. “I have to go. Chad set fire to his text books again.”</p><p>“Love you, B,” Kurt said with a huffing laugh.</p><p>“Love you too.” And then the phone cut off and Kurt was sliding his own back into his pocket. </p><p>The room had filled in that time frame, Mercedes taking her spot next to Kurt as soon as he sat down, with Tina on his other side. “I like your birdie, Kurt,” Brittney said softly, giving him a smile. “He makes you laugh.” There were a few murmurs of appreciation from the others on that fact. Many of them had never heard Kurt laugh like that before.</p><p>“Thanks, Boo,” Kurt said, smiling back and patting Mercedes knee absently. She was staring at him with an unreadable look, as was Finn. </p><p>“Baby penguin, Princess?” Puck asked with a raised eyebrow and narrowed eyes, and Kurt just smiled sarcastically and flipped him off.</p><p>His friends laughed, even if they were a little perturbed by his new behavior. But Kurt, despite knowing that he should have probably tried to act like he had before, had grown up. He knew who he was, he knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t going to change for anything or anybody. Not even time travelling or Fates or whatever. </p><p>If they had wanted him to be the same, then they wouldn’t have sent him and Blaine back in the first place. </p><p>Although, he ardently wished that sending them back hadn’t messed with Blaine’s head so much. His husband-boyfriend was still desperately unsettled by the whole ordeal. In fact, Kurt found himself thinking a lot about that over the course of the class, even as Ms. Holliday had them go through her rendition of <em>“Forget You”</em>. Back the first time around, Blaine had been his rock, his hero, and who he had needed at a time when he hadn’t thought anybody could see him.</p><p>This time, though, Blaine was the one that had been left floundering, and Kurt was there to steady him. And, knowing what was coming, Kurt knew that he’d have to stay strong for a while yet. Blaine had been so very good at hiding any pain or uneasiness before, but Kurt knew just how fragile he was. They could support each other; they were good at that.</p><p>They were very good at that.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~</p>
</div>Friday night dinner was a lively affair, considering the Hummels were joined by not only Carole and Finn, but Rachel, Mercedes, Sam and Blaine as well. They had decided to all have dinner together before heading to the show, since it was in Lima anyway. Blaine would be staying the night—strictly on the couch—so that he wouldn’t have to drive back to Dalton late at night. Or back to Westerville, which was a good hour and a half away (Dalton being closer to Lima than Blaine’s hometown).<p>Conversation was lively, with Mercedes, Rachel, Carole and Kurt occupied with a discussion on fashion and Finn, Burt, Blaine and Sam happily talking about the latest college football game, as well as McKinley’s progress in the sport. Dalton didn’t have a football team, but Blaine admitted to being on the fencing team. Kurt had rolled his eyes at the football, lamenting the fact that every man in his life would have an obsession with the sport. Blaine had merely grinned at him.</p><p>The show itself was just as good as Blaine and Kurt remembered. Finn and Rachel had sort of separated themselves from the rest of them upon arriving, for whatever reason. Blaine and Sam had immediately hit it off, as though they’d been friends for ages. Mercedes and Kurt had watched in amusement as the two talked and jumped about like kids. (Kurt was actually beginning to wonder if a little of the love that his friends had grown to have for Blaine had come back in time with them; they were accepting him so much more readily than the first time around.)</p><p>If the six of them softly sang along to the music, no one around them really minded. Or at least, no one complained. They headed out for milkshakes after, discussing their favorite parts of the show. Mercedes was watching closely, Kurt noticed, how he and Blaine interacted. But they didn’t really portray much of a couple in public, having learned long ago that Lima, Ohio was not the place for that. Not yet. It sucked, but they were used to it.</p><p>After dropping his friends off at their homes, Kurt brought Finn and Blaine back to his house. Carole and Finn were back to living with them, and Kurt really didn’t have a problem with that. Finn was a little awkward still, but Kurt could admit that he had missed his brother. A lot. And having him back was a miracle that he could overlook a little awkwardness for. </p><p>They all gathered in the living room, the whole family plus Blaine, and put in a movie. One of the Iron Man movies, because it had both explosions and RDJ as eye candy for those that liked that kind of thing. Kurt was snuggled into Blaine, and Burt was smiling at them, because he got it. He saw what Kurt had meant when he’d said the boy was endgame. Sometimes he swore he could see matching rings on their fingers, only for them to be gone a moment later. Trick of the light, maybe. </p><p>And if Kurt fell asleep with Blaine on the couch during the middle of the movie, Blaine’s head resting on Kurt’s hair as they held each other, both looking more at ease and happy than anyone had ever seen them, Burt just let them sleep. Carole covered them with a throw blanket, and Finn just shrugged and smiled and headed for the basement bedroom. </p><p>Burt stayed a little longer, watching quietly as the two boys slept. And he found that he was happy. He wanted this for his son. He wanted this for himself, Carole smiling softly from the kitchen doorway, backlit by the light in that room. Kurt smiling in his sleep, held by someone that obviously cherished him. Finn happy and safe and part of the family.<br/>
And he went to bed and left the two sleeping on the couch. And when he woke in the morning, there was no awkwardness as Blaine and Kurt prepared breakfast, moving around each other in the kitchen as though they’d been doing so for years. Light touches, sweet kisses, and soft laughter. No wariness, no fear, no nervousness. </p><p>And Burt was happy.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He had a stupid headache. Again. And it was making studying incredibly difficult. Blaine was getting very, very tired of this reoccurring, persistent headache. </p><p>The room was filled with Warblers, all talking softly and studying. It was a thing, that after practice the group would generally just stay in the room and get their homework done. Practice had been cancelled today, since Mr. Connally couldn’t make it (he wasn’t always part of the Warblers, since it was mostly student led, but so close to Sectionals, they needed an adult present), but pretty much all the Warblers had gathered anyway, since classes were done and there were a few hours until dinner. Might as well get all the work done early, right?</p><p>But this stupid headache was making that really hard. Blaine rubbed at his face, and then at one of his eyes before he paused and frowned. Oh. The world was much blurrier when he covered his left eye. Okay, sure.</p><p>It had always been a possibility that he’d have permanent damage from the head trauma he’d suffered from the bashing. It was always a possibility that it would surface much later in life. His eyesight was something that his doctor had been worried about, but it hadn’t been a problem until after the slushy incident with Sebastian in his junior year. That had exacerbated issues a bit and he’d had to get glasses and contacts after that.</p><p>The slushy incident hadn’t happened yet, but it didn’t seem like that mattered anymore. Time travel was enough to mess up his sight now, he guessed, and that was probably the cause of his stupid headache. </p><p>Blaine slammed his book shut with a frustrated groan and shoved it away from him. He buried his hands in his hair and took a deep breath. After a moment, he grabbed his phone and dialed a number, steadily ignoring the fact that the room had gone completely silent and he could feel dozens of eyes watching him. He wasn’t one to make a scene, usually, and his actions had apparently startled the other Warblers. </p><p>“Hey doc, it’s Blaine Anderson,” he said softly when his doctor answered the phone. “You told me I need to report any issues I was having regarding the head trauma?” He paused, listening to the other voice on the phone and leaning back in his chair. His eyes flicked up to Nick, sitting across from him and he frowned at the concerned look his friend was giving him. “Yeah. Pretty sure I’m losing sight in my right eye.” Stifled gasps from the other Warblers. Another question from the man on the phone. “Mmhmm. Sure. Uh huh. Friday. Ten thirty. Lima office. Got it. Thanks doc.” He hung up and tossed his phone on the table and rubbed at his face, trying to ease the headache away. </p><p>It wasn’t working. He could feel everyone’s eyes, and they all felt confused and worried and…he’d never told anyone anything about himself. No one but Wes knew anything about this. He wanted out. He wanted quiet. He wanted…he wanted Kurt.</p><p>And suddenly he had Kurt. Not physically, not there. But he could feel Kurt hugging him, softly, almost as though it was coming from inside of him. A telepathic hug. His lips quirked in a bittersweet smile and he grabbed his phone again, getting to his feet. It wasn’t enough.</p><p>Kurt answered on the first ring, clearly waiting for his call. He’d be in after school Glee right now, but Blaine was incredibly glad he’d answered. “Kamusta, mahal,” he said softly, pacing over to one of the couches. Wayne was seated in the corner of it but got up immediately to let Blaine take his place. Blaine curled up sideways, his feet up on the cushions, back against the armrest, and knees to his chest, tucking the phone close to him with shaky hands as he rested his forehead on his knees.</p><p>At McKinley, Kurt was frowning sadly. The club was arguing about the sectionals setlist, and he was waiting for Blaine to call, because he’d felt Blaine’s sudden frustration and panic and need for a hug and had done his best to help, but it clearly hadn’t been enough. So, when his phone rang, he answered it and ignored the talking going on around him. </p><p>“Blaine? What’s wrong baby?” he asked softly.</p><p>“Masakit ang ulo,” was the quiet, pained answer. And Kurt knew it was more than just Blaine’s head hurting. He’d forgotten his English, from the sound of it, reverting to Tagalog, and a mere headache wouldn’t have done that on its own. </p><p>“Do you want me to sing?” he asked, instead of trying to get Blaine to talk. It wouldn’t work; he’d have to try again, when Blaine had his English back and was in a better state of mind.</p><p>“Tabi.”</p><p>“Kurt!” Mr. Schue suddenly called, noticing that Kurt wasn’t paying attention. “No phones, please.”</p><p>Kurt shook his head, holding up a hand. “Any requests?” he asked instead, absently staring at Rachel’s horrid orange and green sweater. There was a soft noise, but no requests, so Kurt thought for a moment, unable to think of much of anything except for Oompa Loompas due to that sweater. Well, that would work.</p><p>Mr. Schue looked a little disgruntled at Kurt refusing to hang up the phone until the boy started singing. The sweet tones of <em>Pure Imagination</em> rang through the room, silencing the other glee members, who turned to stare at him. They immediately realized that he was singing to someone on the phone, and that he was worried due to the scrunching of his forehead. The only answer was that Blaine was upset, and Kurt was worried, so he was singing. They could get behind that; for all their faults, New Directions always stood behind their members.</p><p>Tina inched closer, motioning to the band and smiling at Kurt when the background music started up to add to his vocals. She made another motion and Kurt smiled slightly, putting the phone of speaker. </p><p>Back at Dalton, Blaine relaxed into the couch, listening to all of New Directions join Kurt in singing to him. He almost felt like crying for a moment, because that was really, really sweet of them. They hardly knew him, after all, and they were willing to sing an absolutely lovely song just because he was having a bad day. </p><p>It wasn’t perfect; they’d never practiced it before. But it was pretty, and Blaine remembered that they would be singing this song again in the future at a funeral. They’d work out all the details before then, but for now it was just a nice gesture and he loved this song. It didn’t help his headache much, but his panic and frustration and overall depression was fading a bit.</p><p>“Salamut,” he said softly when the song had finished.</p><p>“You’re welcome,” Kurt replied, just as soft<br/>
.<br/>
“Hope you feel better, Birdie,” someone else said, and it sounded like Puck. There were a lot of well wishes, from everyone in New Directions, even Rachel. And the nickname Birdie was prevalent among all of them, which made him want to laugh, because that had Brittney written all over it. Last time around he’d been labeled as Blaine Warbler, and while he had liked that well enough, he thought he might just like Birdie more.</p><p>“Love you, Blaine,” Kurt said.</p><p>Blaine smiled softly, content. “Mahal din kita,” he said back, and let the phone conversation end. He let his phone fall into his lap, turning his head to look at Wes, who had placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. </p><p>“Headache?” the senior asked. Blaine nodded slightly and Wes frowned. “Lose your English?” Another nod and Wes gave one of his own, looking over Blaine’s head. “David, could you get some Advil?” he asked.</p><p>There was the sound of someone leaving the room and Blaine let his eyes fall shut as Wes’s hand moved to the back of his neck, massaging some of the tension out of the muscles. It didn’t take long for David to return with the painkillers and a bottle of water, which Blaine dutifully took, and the room slowly went back to its normal, quiet chatter. And if they were just a bit quieter as Blaine allowed himself to doze, Wes sitting on the arm of the couch right behind him, then it was just because Blaine really needed the quiet.<br/>
The Warblers were good people, after all, and while they didn’t know everything, they clearly didn’t need to.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurt was in a decent mood on Friday morning. He was a little concerned about the doctor’s appointment that Blaine was heading to in an hour or so (David had promised to drive him, since Blaine wasn’t in any particular shape to do so himself, especially considering his eyesight), but it wasn’t affecting his mood overly much. His Dad and Carole had just told him that they were planning on getting married, and that he needed to act suitably surprised when they came to tell both him and Finn later that day. </p><p>So, when he saw Karofsky stalking towards him with a slushy in hand, Kurt fought to hold back a groan. Great. Just great. That was the last thing he wanted right now. In fact…no. He was going to deal with this now and give Karofsky the kick he needed to be the great guy that Kurt knew he could be.</p><p>As soon as Karofsky was in front of him, slushy cup raised, Kurt moved. He grabbed the cup out of Dave’s hand and promptly threw it in the bully’s face.</p><p>The hall went silent, everyone frozen, including Dave. Kurt turned his bitchiest glare on two other jocks that had been backing Dave up and snarled, “If you even think about touching me, I will beat you into the ground so hard your grandchildren will feel it.” Suitably cowed, the two jocks backed up a bit, because Kurt looked like he would follow up on that threat easily. Turning back to Karofsky, he grabbed the boy’s arm and tugged him harshly towards the bathroom. “You and I, we’re going to talk. Now move.”</p><p>He shoved Dave into the bathroom and over to the sinks, agitatedly turning one on and forcefully helping Dave wash the slushy out of his hair and eyes. “You really need to stop this,” he said, his voice harsh even if his hands weren’t. “You’re better than this, Dave.”</p><p>“What do you know,” Karofsky scowled, batting at Kurt’s hands. “Shit, this stuff burns.”</p><p>“Yeah, no kidding,” Kurt snarked, rolling his eyes. “And I know that you’re a better person than this. For crying out loud, Dave, you have so much potential and you’re too scared to even see it.”</p><p>David shot upright, his face in a tight glare. “If you ever—”</p><p>Kurt sighed. “I’m not going to out you,” he said, placing his hands on his hips. He couldn’t do anything about Karofsky’s stained clothes, but the boy had to have some backups somewhere. “I’m not cruel. All I’m saying is that this stupid bullying that goes on in this school needs to end. And it starts with accepting yourself. And you can do that even if you insist on hanging out in the closet. Coming out has nothing to do with being a complete douche to everyone around you.”</p><p>“It’s not that easy!” David yelled, getting angry, because being angry was so much easier than being anything else.</p><p>“Of course it’s not!” Kurt countered. “I never said it was!” He sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb. “Nothing worth it in life is ever easy, Dave.” He looked up, taking a deep breath. “Look. If you need to talk, I’m here. My boyfriend is willing to talk to you too. But honestly, I think you need to talk to a professional.”</p><p>David scowled. “I don’t need a shrink.”</p><p>Kurt threw his hands up in the air in exasperation and then turned to his bag, where he rifled for a few things. He stood and handed Dave a couple business cards and a flyer. “Here’s the names of some great therapists that are located from here to Columbus. And the flyer is for a LGBTQ group in Columbus if you don’t want to talk to a ‘shrink’. It’s far enough away that no one there would recognize you. Just…think about it.”</p><p>Dave kept his scowl, but shoved the papers into his pocket before leaving the bathroom. Kurt rolled his eyes, but progress was progress he guessed. </p><p>Apparently, word traveled through the school that the resident gay had slushied a jock and then threatened even more. Two of the teachers had even tried to talk to him about it, but he ended up yelling in their faces that if they weren’t going to do anything about the ones doing the bullying in the first place, then they couldn’t pull this stupid double standard shit. He’d been told to go to the office, but had ignored that, and Sue Sylvester had actually applauded him for it.</p><p>So by the time they were seated in after-school glee, waiting for Mr. Schue to appear from where he and Coach Sylvester were apparently teaming up together to talk Kurt out of any trouble, the school was kind of walking on eggshells. The club was all talking quietly among themselves, and they were all a little startled by the soft knock on the doorjamb. </p><p>“Oh hey,” Kurt said, looking up at his boyfriend. “You look cute.” And Blaine did, with his hair ungelled and all curly and bouncy, thick-rimmed glasses perched on his face. He was wearing tight jeans (although nowhere near as tight as Kurt liked to wear) and a cream-colored, cozy, chunky knit sweater that reached halfway down his thighs, and covered the majority of his hands. He was clearly dressed for comfort, as opposed to trying to impress.</p><p>“Thanks. I think,” Blaine grinned. “So…your school seems a little on edge today.” He looked a little uncomfortable, and Kurt was hard pressed to not just get up and give him a hug.</p><p>“Yeah,” Santana drawled, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Lady-Lips here grew some balls and now everyone’s terrified of crossing him.” </p><p>“Uh-huh,” Blaine nodded sagely, as though that made perfect sense. And then he turned to Kurt. “What?”</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes, holding out his arms and making grabby hands. “I slushied Karofsky, threatened some jocks and yelled at a couple teachers. All in all, it was a great day. How was yours?”</p><p>Blaine blinked at him, humming softly, and then stepped forward into those arms, allowing Kurt to rest his head on his stomach from where he was seated. “I spent about five hours doing a multitude of medical tests. And hey, good news; they think its my eye that is damaged and not my head, so after a few years of dealing with glasses and contacts I can hopefully get it fixed with Lasik.”</p><p>“Cool,” Kurt mumbled. They’d known this, of course, but the time-traveling had kind of thrown things out of cycle. So, it was good to have it confirmed anyway</p><p>“Also, I’m here to bum a ride off you when you get out. Will you drive me back to Dalton tonight?”</p><p>Sam frowned at him. “You’re gonna stay in the dorms all weekend? Don’t you want to go home?”</p><p>Blaine shrugged. “My parents are home this weekend, so…no.”</p><p>“That sucks, dude,” Puck said, with a sympathetic grimace. Blaine just shrugged again, absently running his fingers through Kurt’s hair. That alone meant something to most of the club, since Kurt never let anyone near his hair.</p><p>“You can take our couch again, Birdie,” Finn offered, and Kurt shot him a grateful look. Blaine smiled and gave a short nod, letting him know that he’d think about it.</p><p>“Oh hey, Mr. Schue,” Quinn said, looking towards the door. “Birdie’s back.”</p><p>“Hello…Birdie,” Mr. Schue said with an unsure smile. He sort of recognized the kid as the Dalton boy that had been there a few weeks ago, but still hadn’t actually been given his name.</p><p>Blaine laughed. “Blaine. Anderson. Nice to meet you.” </p><p>Mr. Schue nodded. Yeah, that made more sense than Birdie. “You too. Heard you were a Warbler, so I’m sorry to say this but you’re going to have to leave. We’re working on our set for Sectionals today.” Of course, Blaine knew exactly what the New Directions were going to perform for Sectionals, just as he knew what they were going to do for Regionals, and maybe Nationals if Kurt didn’t make any changes to the outcome. But that didn’t matter much, and he wasn’t about to use that knowledge against them.</p><p>Blaine, still smiling, gave a long sigh. “Oh, the joys of dating the competition.” He backed out of the hug with Kurt. “I’ll just wait for you in the library, then?”</p><p>Kurt nodded. “Think you can find it?” Of course he could find it; he’d attended the school for two years. But they had to keep up the pretense. </p><p>“I’m assuming it’s the big room filled with books that I passed back there?” Blaine said with a cheeky grin as he walked back to the door.</p><p>“Don’t be an ass,” Kurt warned playfully.</p><p>“But you like my ass,” Blaine called back, walking off with a laugh.</p><p>Kurt huffed a bit, shaking his head. “Well, he’s not lying,” he muttered, much to the amusement of everyone else.</p><p>Rachel, of course, started in on a diatribe about which song she should solo to showcase her talent for Sectionals, and everyone bit back their groans. And then Kurt realized that he was just as done with this as he was the bullies in the school.</p><p>“Rachel, do us all a favor and shut up,” he said, loud enough to cut her off mid sentence. Mr. Schue turned to him, frowning darkly, and Kurt held up his hand. “You too, Mr. Schue. I’m absolutely done with the bullies in this school, and that includes the ones in this classroom. And I’m talking to you, Ms. Berry.”</p><p>Everyone had gone silent, staring at him wide-eyed. He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he rested his ankle on his knee. “No. Don’t even bother trying to tell me you aren’t a bully. You belittle everyone in this group, always going on and on about your talent and it’s true, you have talent but you are nowhere near the best and if you think you are, you’re going to cost us this competition.”</p><p>“Oh, and you’re going to win it for us?” Rachel shot back, eyes narrowed, hands on hips and feeling extremely defensive.</p><p>“No, not at all,” Kurt replied calmly. He tilted his head to one side. “I think Quinn and Sam should do the duet and that Santana should take the lead for the last song. She would kill the song Valarie. Absolutely kill it.” Ah foreknowledge, it was both a curse and a blessing.</p><p>The room remained silent, everyone staring, jaws dropped. But Mr. Schue was looking thoughtful, eyes roving over the group. “Kurt…what do you mean when you talk about bullies in the group?” he asked, his voice quiet. And Kurt looked at him and saw that the man was thinking, for once, about the group as a whole. He was seeing something besides Rachel and Finn, his own problems and…and he was actually listening.</p><p>Kurt sighed. “We’re an eclectic mix, and it works for us. We clash, and we fight and we scrapple for what we can get here. But Rachel is the one who sent Sunshine to a crack house because she couldn’t handle someone being better than her. Rachel is the one that storms out and threatens to quit if she can’t get solos. Rachel is the one that demands attention and screams and whines when she doesn’t get it. Who talks trash about everyone in here and gets away with it while everyone else gets called out on their behavior. She’s a bully, and I say it with love, because I do love you Rachel, but it needs to change.”</p><p>And Rachel screeched and stomped her foot and stormed out of the room, but Mr. Schue didn’t do anything but let her go, nodding silently. And the rest of the group stayed silent as well, waiting for someone to break the tension. “Valarie?” Mr. Schue asked, finally, looking at Santana.</p><p>“With Mike and Brittany dancing, we could have something amazing there,” Kurt replied. </p><p>There were murmurs then, everyone nodding and discussing and agreeing. “Let’s try it,” Mr. Schue said, motioning to Santana and then cueing in the band.</p><p>And Santana killed that solo, just as he said she would.</p>
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</div>Carole and Burt kind of sprung their engagement on both Kurt and Finn right outside the choir room doors, so the rest of the club knew about it too. Carole immediately asked Kurt to plan the wedding, saying that they really didn’t want to wait, so it would take place in two weeks. The rest of the club gave their congratulations and scattered.<p>“Don’t forget about Birdie, Kurt!” Tina called as she disappeared down the hall with Mike.</p><p>“Birdie?” Carole asked, blinking in confusion.</p><p>“Blaine’s here,” Kurt smiled, shaking his head and turning towards the library. “He just couldn’t stay in Glee today, because we were working on our competition stuff and we’re competing against each other.”</p><p>“Why was he here, though? Shouldn’t he be at Dalton?” Burt asked, following his son down the hall, hands shoved in his pockets.</p><p>Kurt gave a small nod. “Usually, yes. But he had a doctor’s appointment here in town and needs a ride back to Dalton.”</p><p>“I offered our couch again, Burt,” Finn admitted. “He didn’t want to go home since his parents are there, but I thought he might not have to stay at the dorms all weekend either.” </p><p>“That’s fine, Finn,” Burt grunted, scowling slightly at the thought of a kid that would rather spend a weekend at school than at home with his parents.</p><p>They entered the library together, and it took them a moment before they found Blaine. He was tucked up in the window, folded in on himself as he read a book, absently chewing on his thumbnail. He was the picture of contentment and Kurt couldn’t help but smile, remembering a slightly too small, and much too expensive apartment in New York, where Blaine could read to his heart’s content. And if he pulled his phone out to take a picture, nobody called him on it. And he wanted pictures, because they didn’t have any from their lives before and he wanted to remember everything about their second chance. </p><p>“Whatcha readin’?” he asked softly, pacing forward on silent feet, so as not to startle his boyfriend too badly.</p><p>Blaine, although still slightly startled, blinked up at him, smiling, his eyes darting to the other three members of the Hudmel clan. “Howl’s Moving Castle,” he answered, pushing his glasses up his nose from where they’d slipped down some. It was more familiar a move than it should have been for a person that had gotten their glasses today, but whatever, no one else had to know that.</p><p>“Again?” Kurt asked, holding out a hand to help Blaine unfold himself and get to his feet.</p><p>“I’m a sucker for a happy ending,” Blaine replied, still smiling. </p><p>“Even with all the crap they had to go through to get there?” Kurt asked, holding a hand out for the book. </p><p>Blaine handed the book over, tilting his head and looking at Kurt through impossibly long, thick lashes. “Doesn’t that just make it all the more worth it, in the end?” he asked back. Kurt sighed and smiled, turning away to check out the book, knowing exactly how to work the process because the librarian was often missing from the library anyway. “You don’t have to take the book home for me, Kurt,” Blaine pointed out.</p><p>“I don’t own it,” Kurt said softly. “And your copy is at your house, so if you want to read it this weekend, then you’ll need this one. Besides, maybe I want to read it again.” </p><p>Carole and Burt exchanged looks, not quite smiles, but not quite frowns. Sometimes those boys acted more like a married couple then many actual married couples did. “Hello again, Blaine,” Burt greeted.</p><p>Carole stepped forward, giving him a hug and telling him the news of the engagement. She noticed how he stiffened, unsure about the hug, but didn’t react to it. Blaine, subtly extracting himself from the embrace, grinned, bright and happy, and offered his congrats, immediately asking who was planning the event and practically jumping with joy when Carole said Kurt was. Of course, Blaine had known it would happen, but it was still fun to see, and Kurt wouldn’t be as stressed about it this time around since he knew exactly how it should go.</p><p>“Hey, Birdie,” Finn called, holding out a hand for a high-five that Blaine hesitated to give. Finn didn’t seem to notice the slight pause, or if he did he didn’t say anything about it. “You stayin’ for the night?”</p><p>Blaine bit his lip, looking to the adults, who just smiled and nodded, and then he nodded as well, running a hand through his curls. “Sure. Thanks. I appreciate it.” Kurt was watching him silently, a small, sad, knowing smile on his face—those medical tests had tested Blaine’s patience when it came to physical contact today.</p><p>It was later, as Carole and Kurt were cooking dinner, and Finn had disappeared into the basement bedroom, and Blaine was curled up on the couch with his book, that Burt sat down and started a slightly hesitant conversation. “So, kiddo,” he said softy, dragging Blaine’s attention away from the book on his lap. “I heard you didn’t want to go home because your parents are there?”</p><p>Blaine stared at him for a long moment, and then looked away. “It’s not…they’ve never…they don’t hurt me or anything…” he mumbled. </p><p>“They’d have to touch you at all to physically hurt you, baby,” Kurt said as he walked past, handing his dad a glass of water and pressing a kiss to Blaine’s curls as he retreated back to the kitchen. “And just because they haven’t physically hurt you doesn’t mean you’re not hurt,” he pointed out.</p><p>Blaine scowled at his back, rolling his eyes. “It’s fine, Mr. Hum—Burt,” he said, glancing at the man fleetingly, refusing to uncurl from the couch. “I live at Dalton most of the year, and I can avoid them the rest of the time, usually. They don’t like me, is all and I don’t like them so it’s better that way.”</p><p>Burt was silent for a long moment and then gave a curt nod. “Okay, kid, if you say so,” he grumbled. “What are your plans for Thanksgiving?”</p><p>Blaine shrugged. “I was going to stay at school, probably. My parents are going to Cabo or something and Cooper can’t make it back from LA this year.” Or, rather, Cooper was still not answering phone calls or replying to messages. </p><p>“Yeah, no,” Carole called from the kitchen. “You’re definitely joining us.” </p><p>Blaine was quiet, biting his lip. And then he swallowed heavily. “Thank you. If you’re sure…”</p><p>“We’re sure, Blaine,” Burt said softly. “You’re obviously important to Kurt, and that makes you important to us.” </p><p>Blaine nodded, ducking his head. He knew, of course, how this family was; he’d known them for years. But their easy acceptance always seemed to throw him for a loop. It was amazing, he thought, that people like the Hummel-Hudson clan existed in this world. Especially in the middle of Ohio, of all places. Burt said nothing, heaving himself to his feet and clapping a gentle hand on Blaine’s shoulder for a moment before wandering off to the kitchen. Blaine sat and reveled in the love for a while longer before returning his attention to his book.</p><p>After dinner, Blaine asked if it was okay to play the piano. His arm was aching after all the tests, the doctor having decided to be completely thorough in his check-up and test more than just Blaine’s head, and a little piano was always good physical therapy for his rebuilt hand. He joked that his arm was more wire and pins than it was flesh and bone; it wasn’t a very funny joke.</p><p>So, Blaine played everything from Jon Schmidt, to Beethoven, to top 40 songs while Kurt and Finn cleaned up from dinner. If it was a song they recognized, the two soon-to-be step-brothers would sing along to Blaine’s accompaniment. Every once and a while he had to stumble over the beginning of a song that hadn’t been written yet and try to find one that had, because that would be awkward to explain. He and Kurt shared looks at those times, because Blaine had also stopped Kurt when he had been humming <em>Wait For Me</em> from <em>Hadestown</em> earlier that evening.</p><p>Carole and Burt enjoyed the semi-concert and then wandered off to bed. At around midnight, both Finn and Kurt left for bed as well, Blaine set up on the couch wearing Kurt’s old sweats and curled up under a quilt. He had gone back to reading by the light of the single lamp next to the couch.</p><p>He was still reading when everyone woke for breakfast in the morning, which caused Kurt to frown down at him, running his fingers through Blaine’s curls. “Did you get any sleep last night?” he asked.</p><p>Blaine shrugged slightly, concentrating on the last few pages of the book. “I got a couple hours. Thanks.” Meaning he’d only gotten one or two and was completely exhausted but hiding it behind his book.</p><p>Kurt sighed and then made his way to the kitchen to start breakfast. Some things, it seemed, would never change, time travel or not. Too many memories of nights where Blaine would read more than sleep. Memories of tripping over piles of books and music and notebooks and sketchbooks, because there wasn’t enough room in the apartment for all of them. Memories of reading with his husband, curled up on the couch, cuddled together. </p><p>They were good memories, for the most part.</p><p>And later in the afternoon, after Blaine had finished the book, and Kurt had gotten him to lay down, resting his head in Kurt’s lap, Kurt ran his fingers featherlight across Blaine’s face, lulling him into a gentle sleep. He knew just how to get this boy to rest, even if it didn’t always work. His fingers traced the bridge of Blaine’s nose, across his brow, down his cheek and outlining his jaw, his throat and skittering across his collarbones, only to retrace their steps and do it all over again. It hardly ever failed to get Blaine to doze off, and the boy gave a happy, sleepy sigh as his eyes fluttered shut.</p><p>Burt watched, smiling, and Carole joined them in the living room to softly talk about the wedding. A two-week engagement meant that a lot of planning had to happen really fast, after all.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The school was still on edge. When Azimio had tried to locker-check Kurt, he’d ended up on the ground instead. Kurt, honestly, couldn’t tell what he had done to the jock, because he actually didn’t know. He figured it had something to do with Blaine’s wish that they’d be able to defend themselves. Azimio hadn’t been injured, thankfully, but he had been stunned, especially when Kurt had just walked away.</p><p>But it was odd, the effect it was having on the rest of the school. He’d always been on the very bottom of the food chain. He’d known it, and honestly, he’d owned it, but that seemed to be changing. And it wasn’t just for him, either. The slushies had seemed to practically disappear by the middle of the week, although they were still being sold. Other kids, had, apparently, taken Kurt’s example and hadn’t taken being slushied either. Too many of the top-tier kids had had the icy beverages thrown back in their faces. </p><p>Only, those that had thrown them often helped clean them up afterwards too. Silently, reluctantly, but they’d helped.</p><p>So, the school was walking on eggshells as a new social order was being created. One where bullying wasn’t being accepted as the status norm anymore. It really helped that Coach Sylvester, Mr. Schue, Ms. Pillsbury, Coach Beiste and a few other teachers seemed to be patrolling the halls and parking lot more frequently and calling out any student that even tried to start trouble. </p><p>Karofsky had been oddly silent as well, going out of his way to avoid Kurt. It wasn’t until Kurt was staying after Glee one day with Finn and Burt to teach the two men to dance for the wedding. Thankfully, Blaine had shown up to help, because quite frankly, both his dad and stepbrother were useless in the dancing department, and while Blaine was more prone to bouncing across a stage, he could waltz with the best of them. </p><p>Karofsky had, under the intense glares of Burt and Finn, and the unsure gaze of Blaine, politely asked if he could talk to Kurt. They’d stayed in the auditorium, far enough away that their conversation wouldn’t be heard, but where they could still be seen, to ease both Kurt’s mind and his father’s. Blaine continued trying to get Finn to dance, while Burt watched his son, not entirely sure what was going on.</p><p>(Finn had, reluctantly, told Burt that Kurt had been relentlessly bullied earlier, but had begun fighting back recently. It hadn’t been a fun conversation.)</p><p>“What do you want, Karofsky?” Kurt sighed, once they were far enough away.</p><p>Dave, for his part, looked incredibly uncomfortable. “My therapist says that I need to apologize for kissing you,” he said softly. “That it was sexual assault, and that it was probably traumatizing.” At Kurt’s raised eyebrow, the larger teen groaned. “Look. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I was angry and scared and…and I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for everything else as well.”</p><p>“I get that,” Kurt responded. “And I’m glad you’re talking to someone.” He paused. “Your therapist was right. It was assault, and it was traumatizing, and if I didn’t have such an amazing boyfriend it probably would have been worse,” he admitted. Dave looked away, shuffling slightly, clearly wanting to leave. “I forgive you, you know.”</p><p>“The group…the one in Columbus,” Dave started haltingly. “Have you ever been?”</p><p>“Once or twice,” Kurt shrugged. “I found someone closer by to relate to,” he said with a pointed look to his boyfriend, still on the stage, dressed in the Dalton uniform and looking confident and dapper. “Are you thinking of going?”</p><p>Dave shrugged. “My therapist says I need to meet other people like me…”</p><p>Kurt nodded. “It helps.” He sighed. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you. Blaine is too. And someday you’ll find someone who is perfect for you, and all of this will be worth it.”</p><p>“You think so?” Dave asked, allowing himself to sound just a little hopeful.</p><p>“I know so.” Because Kurt did. Dave had found himself a wonderful man after he and Blaine had separated. They’d dated for a year or so before getting married, about a month before Blaine and Kurt had died. And Dave had been happy.</p><p>There was a short pause. “Thank you,” Karofsky practically whispered. And then he gave a slight smile. “You know, Hummel, the whole school is practically terrified of you right now.”</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes. “The whole school needed to get their heads out of their collective butts and learn that the real world doesn’t work the way they thought.”</p><p>Karofsky laughed, turning on his heel and walking away without another word. Kurt watched him go and then nodded to himself, heading back to the stage where he kissed his boyfriend and grabbed his dad to try and get the man to learn this dance by the end of the hour or so help him…</p><p>The two weeks passed far too quickly, even if they weren’t as stressed as they likely should have been. Kurt had everything completely under control, as he’d done this before and knew just what to do. Only, a few changes had been made; he was making the main wedding cake himself, while a bakery near Dalton was making some sheet cakes for the reception guests. And Blaine was actually attending the wedding this time, having personally been asked by Burt and Carole.</p><p>The Wednesday before the ceremony saw Blaine panicking slightly, though, because his car was refusing to start. He desperately needed to go to the Lima public library for a book for a report that was due Friday. He was going to miss the class, because of the wedding, and the report had to be done beforehand or his teacher wasn’t going to accept it and it consisted of a good twenty percent of this semester’s final grade. Only his car wouldn’t start and there wasn’t anyone around that could take him to the library and…</p><p>And he called Burt, asking for his advice, because Blaine was a teenager, past life or not, and actually had an adult he could rely on this time around.</p><p>Burt had calmed him down, driven to Dalton to tow his car back and dropped Blaine off at the library on his way back to the garage. Two hours later, report complete, Blaine was sitting in the Hummel kitchen and helping Kurt finish the beautiful three-tier wedding cake. </p><p>Blaine couldn’t bake worth anything, despite Kurt spending literal years trying to teach him, but he could make the most amazing sugar flowers. So that is what he was doing, as Kurt placed the flowers in a cascade over the cake. They were talking about their homework, and Kurt promised to read through Blaine’s report. He also promised to have someone come by to pick Blaine up for the wedding on Friday, giving his boyfriend the information for the bakery, so that they could pick up the reception cakes on the way back from the school. </p><p>Blaine’s car needed a bit more work then they had first thought. </p><p>Blaine was, admittedly, okay with this because even though a few months had passed, he still wasn’t completely comfortable with driving yet. </p><p>Carole drove him back to Dalton that night, gushing about the wonderful cake, and how Kurt had helped tailor her dress, and how Blaine’s calligraphy on the invitations had been beautiful and amazing…and Blaine had smiled and let her kiss his cheek as he’d gotten out of the car. </p><p>It was nice to be loved.</p>
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</div>Blaine was dressed in a tailored suit (courtesy of Kurt, and really when had the guy had time?! Blaine was always amazed by his husband-boyfriend), when he made his way down the stairs after lunch on Friday, his satchel over his shoulder and packed for the weekend. The few Dalton boys hanging around in the Stanton common room watched him with undisguised curiosity. “Where ya goin’, Blainers?” David asked. “You’re dressed like a million bucks.”<p>“Thanks,” Blaine grinned, walking over to the couch where David and a couple other Warblers were piled, working on homework. “I have the rest of the day excused so I can go to a wedding.” </p><p>“Oh?” Jeff asked. “Who’s getting married?”</p><p>“A friend’s dad,” Blaine answered. He tilted his head to one side, remembering something from the future that was going to be rather important soon. Maybe…maybe he could help out a friend some. So, he started a conversation, waiting for his ride to appear.</p><p>He didn’t expect, fifteen minutes later, for the yell of “Yo, Birdie! You ready to go?” to ring out through the room. He almost startled, looking over his shoulder at Sam and Puck, who were standing in the doorway, also wearing suits (although not as tailored as his). They looked rather out of place among all the Dalton boys, even as nicely dressed as they were. “Princess says you have the information for the bakery?” Puck continued.</p><p>“Birdie?” David whispered, with a raised eyebrow, looking halfway between amused and concerned.</p><p>Blaine patted David’s shoulder absently, answering the mohawked boy that was getting a lot of odd looks. “Yeah, I have it. I’ll be there in a second.” He turned back to his friends. “I’ll be back Sunday night,” he said, knowing he was missing that night’s Warblers practice but not really caring all that much. They’d be fine without him; he was trying to convince them to let some of the others take the lead solos sometimes, but the council wasn’t budging. Not this close to Sectionals, at least, which he really couldn’t blame them for.</p><p>He turned and made his way to the two intruders, and the Stanton boys watched as the blond one threw an arm over Blaine’s shoulder and the one with the mohawk gave him a friendly fist-bump. And Blaine knew that he was going to be interrogated once he returned on Sunday.</p><p>He followed them to Puck’s car, climbing into the backseat. “How did my name turn into Birdie?” he asked, once they were on their way to the bakery.</p><p>Sam threw him a grin. “You’re a Warbler. Warblers are birds. Brittney called you that and it stuck.”</p><p>“Fair enough,” Blaine said with a shrug, knowing that even with his apparent limited exposure to Brittney that he would have gotten that. “And calling Kurt Princess?”</p><p>“Hey,” Puck grumbled. “Only I’m allowed to call him Princess. He’s my boy, man. I don’t do it to be mean.” </p><p>Blaine grinned. “No, I got that. I get the feeling Kurt would have made it known if he didn’t mind.” </p><p>Puck’s eyes widened a bit, a little bit of fear there. “Yeah. Yeah he would have. Princess has the whole school cowering at the moment. Took down Azimio the other day. It was beautiful.” Blaine said nothing, although he had a satisfied smile on his face.</p><p>Sam glanced back at him with a happy smile. “Speaking of nicknames and pet names, I notice that you don’t call Kurt many of them.”</p><p>Blaine blinked. “No…I do. Just not usually in English,” he admitted. “And if they’re in English, they’re usually southern ones like ‘sugar’ or ‘darling’ because I learned my English in Georgia.”</p><p>“Wait, English isn’t your first language?” Puck interjected, turning into the bakery parking lot.</p><p>“No,” Blaine shook his head. “It’s my second? Or third. I learned Spanish and English at the same time. Tagalog was first. I was born in Manila.” He pointed at himself. “I’m half Filipino.”</p><p>“Huh,” Puck said, getting out of the car. “That’s cool.”</p><p>They picked up the cakes, storing them safely in the backseat next to Blaine, and headed on to Lima. Their conversation picked up where they left off almost immediately. “So, you won’t ever call Kurt ‘baby’?” Sam asked.</p><p>“No,” Blaine said softly, a content smile on his face. “He finds it demeaning.”</p><p>Puck frowned, glancing back at him in the rearview mirror. “But he calls you ‘baby’ all the time,” he pointed out.</p><p>“Yeah,” Blaine agreed, “because I like it.”  It made him feel loved and wanted and…well. He liked it, which was a little strange because he completely understood Kurt’s arguments against the term. He grinned and shrugged. “It’s called communication, boys. Relationships last a lot longer and have a lot fewer problems when you implement it.” He then turned to Sam, talking about how he’d heard a rumor that Sam’s father’s work was going to start laying people off, and that Jeff’s father’s firm was looking for someone in that line of work. He handed over the business card that Jeff had given him, and they pulled up to the place where the wedding was taking place. </p><p>The wedding was beautiful. Blaine had joined the New Directions this time around, for the singing and the ceremony. He’d integrated well, and they had all been rather amazed by his singing ability, which had led to some discussions about competition, but it was all in good humor. </p><p>And at the reception, he joined the others in taking turns singing while others danced. He got to dance with Kurt, a lot, as well as a lot of the other New Directions members. Every girl had stolen a dance from both him and Kurt, and quite a few of the guys had as well. When Finn sang his song to Kurt, the two of them had looked at each other and promised that they would save this boy. They didn’t know how, they didn’t know if Fate would allow them to do so, but they were going to try their hardest at the very least.</p><p>Carole danced with both her sons, and then danced with both Puck—who had practically grown up in her house—and Blaine as well. She’d told him that he was going to be her son-in-law someday anyway, that she truly believed it, so why wait until then to claim him? He’d nearly cried; he loved this family.</p><p>And if Kurt and Blaine managed to move everyone to tears when they sang <em>Come What May</em> for the last song, then that wasn’t really their intention. They’d just wanted to sing something for the happy couple that meant something to them as well.</p><p>Carole and Burt were headed to a hotel for the next two nights; they’d be back on Sunday and were trusting the boys not to burn down the house. They’d take a real honeymoon in a few weeks when there was a little more time before Thanksgiving and Sectionals and the last football games. </p><p>Finn, Kurt and Blaine spent all of Saturday lounging about the house. They played video games, read magazines, watched movies and were particularly lazy. It was nice, it was comfortable, and it was incredibly restful. Blaine, for his part, slept the best he ever had, because although he’d been told to stay on the couch, Finn had promised not to mention it to anyone if he and Kurt shared a bed. Finn wasn’t exactly worried about it because they shared a room, and Kurt and Blaine were rather conscientious of that fact, so it wasn’t like the taller boy was going to be interrupting anything.</p><p>And for their part, Blaine and Kurt still hadn’t really moved beyond kissing in this lifetime yet anyway. They didn’t really feel the need to, young teenage hormones or not. But cuddling at night meant that Blaine slept through the night, usually, and this weekend meant that he actually got more sleep than he had in months.</p><p>By the time the parents returned, the three were bickering humorously while making dinner. Blaine and Kurt danced around each other as they worked, while Finn sat at the counter pouting because they wouldn’t let him help. He’d already burned the pasta once. And while Kurt was the real chef of the kitchen, Blaine could at least hold his own so long as it didn’t involve baking. (He really, really couldn’t bake and he didn’t even understand why.)</p><p>Kurt had been a sweetheart, though, and had made cookies for all the boys in Stanton Hall (of which there were about 100, so that was a lot of cookies). Finn and Blaine had been taste-testers, strictly relegated to the counter and told not to touch anything while the cookies had been made. </p><p>Burt and Carole slid into the kitchen easily, seating themselves at the counter and joining in with the banter. </p><p>And if Blaine was driven back to Dalton with more than just two hundred cookies (really, Kurt!?) because Carole had decided to give him all the extra reception cake (not the wedding cake, sorry, that was for Friday night dinner desert), then he just laughed at how much Stanton Hall was going to owe him. The entire family dropped him off, as he’d be getting his car back when he came for Thanksgiving break after Sectionals. He got hugs from all of them, even Finn, in the parking lot and a sweet kiss from Kurt. </p><p>It was a great weekend.</p><p>“I bring goodies!” Blaine yelled out as he entered the main floor of Stanton Hall. There was the sound of a stampede headed towards him and he backed up a bit, placing the large bag on the coffee table. When a ton of boys swarmed into the room, he just pointed and let them at it. He’d had enough, and besides, he had another Tupperware in his bag that he’d hide in his room later. </p><p>“Lookin’ good, Blainers,” Nick said with a grin, holding two cookies in his hands. “We hardly ever get to see you out of your uniform.” That was true; Blaine didn’t really care too much about dressing down at school. Now though he was wearing an outfit that Kurt had put together and proclaimed that he looked ‘absolutely hot’ in. It even had a nice black bowtie, which made him happy. The skinny jeans, knee high converse, dark red shirt and black halter-top, backless vest really did make him look good.</p><p>“Also,” David said, slinging an arm around Blaine’s waist as he munched on a piece of cake. “Where’d the goodies come from? I thought you were at a wedding.”</p><p>“I was.” Blaine shrugged, leaning into his friend a bit. “They’re left-overs from the reception.” Well, the cookies weren’t, but they didn’t need to know that.</p><p>Eyebrows rose, as Wes and Jeff joined them. “You got to take home the left-overs?”</p><p>“I helped plan the wedding,” Blaine said with a smile. And he had; Kurt had relied on him quite a bit for the planning of this despite knowing how it would go. The added help had made things so much smoother. </p><p>The four boys just stared at him for a long moment before exchanging grins. It was good to see Blaine happy and with friends outside of the Warblers. He was always so distant; Wes made another mental note to thank Kurt for this. Again. Because, honestly, Blaine deserved all the happiness he could get, and despite a few hiccups he’d been incredibly happy since meeting the other boy.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sectionals took place on the Monday before Thanksgiving. Dalton would be getting the rest of the week off, while McKinley would still have school on Tuesday. Blaine was fully planning on just hanging out with Carole on Tuesday, since she had the day off. He’d promised to help look at houses with her, as Burt had finally told Kurt and Finn about the plan to move into a bigger house. </p><p>Monday, though, started very, very badly. Kurt had woken at four in the morning to an overwhelming sense of panic. It had taken nearly ten minutes to realize that it wasn’t his own panic, but Blaine’s. And, once he’d figured it out, he’d tried to contact the boy via phone, only for Blaine to refuse to pick up the phone or answer any of the texts.<br/>
He sent all his love Blaine’s way, but resigned to finally contacting Wes.</p><p>Blaine, for the record, had had a pretty crappy weekend. He’d had to go home and deal with his parents as they’d been very insistent on that matter. There’d been a dinner party they had wanted him to attend, along with a ‘nice girl’ that he was expected to woo, as a way into the company his father wanted contacts with. Blaine wasn’t amused, which set his parents off on a passive-aggressive tirade. An entire two days with them had put him in a pretty foul mood overall, but then he’d realized that his plans to go to Manila for Christmas were well and truly shot, and that made things even worse.</p><p>His grandfather was going to die in January. He knew that already, had already lived it. But his mother’s father was the only person in his entire family that seemed to even care a little bit about him, everyone else stuck in their homophobic, materialistic ways. Grandma had loved him too, but she had passed years ago, before Blaine had had to transfer to Dalton. Which, by the way, had been his grandfather’s doing.</p><p>His parents had merely said that he needed to tough it out at public school, despite public school having nearly killed him. Sometimes he thought that they were disappointed that it hadn’t.</p><p>Blaine had been hoping that he’d be able to go to Manila for Christmas, to be able to see his grandfather one last time. But he was still a minor and flying out of the country without parental consent was extremely frowned upon. And his parents didn’t want him to go, obviously. So, he’d called his grandfather who had frankly told him not to waste his time trying, because he was very sick and the last thing he wanted was for Blaine to catch whatever it was he had, and that he’d be able to see him this summer. </p><p>Blaine couldn’t exactly tell him that this sickness is what was going to kill him. But he didn’t want to not see his grandfather either. </p><p>And, once his grandfather passed, his mother would get the entirety of the inheritance as she was his only child, and that would be the thing that would sever Blaine from his parents completely. They’d have the money to do whatever they wanted, and he’d be left behind. And, when they realized that he wasn’t going to uphold their ‘standards of Anderson living’ –whatever that meant—they’d cut him off completely upon graduation. </p><p>He knew how this was going to go. He’d only been hoping that he could make it a little better. </p><p>It didn’t work.</p><p>Blaine didn’t know what triggered the nightmares, but he was in a complete state of panic when Wes finally entered his room at almost six, the morning of Sectionals. He’d bitten through the base of his thumb, not even realizing it was bleeding rather heavily, and was having trouble remembering how to breathe. </p><p><strong>From Wes:</strong> <em> Kurt, this isn’t good. If I can’t get him out of his head before Sectionals then we won’t be able to perform. I know you’re competition, but can you help?</em><br/>
<strong>From Kurt:</strong> <em> Hold the phone to his ear. I’ll try and get him calm again.</em></p><p>The phone call worked, to some degree. Kurt talked for almost an hour before Blaine was ready to face the day. He reluctantly hung up, murmuring something in reply to Wes’s thanks. Blaine would perform at Sectionals, and then, very likely, shut down again. He hadn’t been this bad since before they got married. </p><p>“Guys,” Kurt called as they boarded the bus that would take them to their competition area. “If you see Blaine today, please don’t crowd him or touch him.”</p><p>“Why not?” Sam frowned, sliding into a seat across from Kurt. The others were all asking some of the same questions. Kurt knew that Santana, Quinn and Brittney had been planning on giving Blaine ‘good luck kisses’ as an attempt to throw him off his game. Usually, that would have been laughed off; today wasn’t a good day for it.</p><p>“Something triggered him this morning,” Kurt replied, glancing at his phone with a frown. “He’s had a really bad panic attack and has been fighting against it since. So, leave him alone until after the competition and please, just don’t touch him.”</p><p>The Warblers, for their part, immediately knew something was up when Wes and Blaine were late to board the bus. David stood up, glaring at his phone in his hand and addressed the fifteen other boys. “Guys, something’s triggered Blaine’s PTSD to an extreme today. He’s sucking it up and will perform as we know he can, but please don’t touch him or crowd him or set him off in any way.”</p><p>They all agreed. They knew Blaine had his problems, especially with touching, although knowing for sure that it was PTSD brought to mind a bunch of questions that they were all just a little too polite to ask. And when Wes and Blaine made it onto the bus a few minutes later, looking just as dapper and calm as always, no one said anything, because they all knew that Blaine was an amazing actor and just because he looked calm didn’t mean he was.</p><p>And he performed, playing to the crowd, hearing the cheers from everyone out there and smiling as big as he ever did. He heard a few calls of “Yeah! That’s our Birdie!” and knew that the New Directions were out there cheering him on as well, which warmed his heart a bit. And if his hands were shaking just a little more than nerves could excuse, if one of those hands was showing a bandage that hadn’t been there before, than no one said anything, and they all let it go.</p><p>He dropped into an armchair backstage, the other Warblers congratulating themselves and crowing about how they were going to win this thing. Wes patted his shoulder and Blaine didn’t manage to keep from flinching before he let his head fall back and his eyes shut, and he just focused on breathing.</p><p>“You did good, Blainers,” Wes whispered. “You did great. Thank you.”</p><p>“Uh huh,” Blaine grunted, trying to still the shaking in his hands. He knew that the Warblers were supposed to be heading for the auditorium to watch New Directions perform. He knew that he needed to gather himself together again so he could watch, but he wasn’t sure he even wanted to at this point.</p><p>“You’re good, B,” David said from his other side. “You can stay here. I’ll stay with you and Wes can take the others to their seats.” There was a bit of commotion and the backstage cleared and quieted for a few minutes before Blaine could hear the New Directions come back and start getting ready. David was perched on the arm of his chair and no one came close to them, so he didn’t bother opening his eyes. He just focused on breathing.</p><p>Breathing was important.</p><p>He smiled slightly as he heard Sam and Quinn start their duet. They sounded just as sweet as they had the first time. It was a little sad that he knew that relationship wasn’t going to last, but Sam and Mercedes had been so good together, having finally announced their engagement right before Kurt and he had headed for their honeymoon. He didn’t feel all that guilty about not watching the performance since he’d actually seen it before.</p><p>Santana rocked <em>Valarie</em>, just as he knew she would. It was a little strange, hearing Kurt’s voice melding with the others for both songs, just as it had been a little strange that Kurt hadn’t been on stage with him and the other Warblers for their own performance.</p><p>Not bad. Just strange.</p><p>And then the New Directions were crowding into the backstage, and the Warblers were following them soon after. They had about a half hour for the judges to deliberate. Blaine didn’t know where the Hipsters were, and he frankly didn’t care all that much. He listened quietly, eyes still closed, but he opened them when he heard Kurt come forward and congratulate all of the Warblers on their performance.</p><p>“You guys were great,” Kurt said with a smile, glancing over to the armchair that Blaine was in. He caught sight of the golden eyes watching him and smiled just a little bit more.<br/>
Wes grinned at him. “Why thank you, oh endearing spy of ours,” he said pompously. “You guys were pretty awesome too.”</p><p>Kurt eyed him for a moment, smirking. “So, Wes, the competition is officially over right?” Wes gave a slow nod, looking just a little confused. “So that threat to lock me in a closet no longer stands?”</p><p>There was a pause, and then Wes laughed, remembering that texting conversation from weeks ago. “Just be careful with him,” he snickered, much to the confusion of the other boys. </p><p>Kurt sauntered forward, eyes on Blaine, and stopped right in front of his chair. “Hey, baby,” he whispered, ignoring David’s chuckle as the darker boy moved away from the pair. “You doin’ better?”</p><p>“I’m breathing,” Blaine answered, which meant, ‘yes, I’m doing as well as can be expected today’, in Blaine-speak. He ignored the fact that everyone backstage was watching the two of them and made grabby-hands towards Kurt. “Please?”</p><p>Kurt laughed a little and sat down in the chair, straddling Blaine’s lap and pulling him into a rather filthy kiss. Blaine arched into him, grabbing at Kurt’s arms to keep himself grounded and resolutely ignoring the catcalls and whistles that were happening around them. </p><p>After a few moments of this, Santana called out, “Yo, Porcelain! You done molesting Birdie yet?”</p><p>Kurt pulled back, snickering, but it was Blaine that answered. “No! He’s not! Now go away, Satan!” and he pulled Kurt back down. This was the best he’d felt all day, and he wasn’t about to give it up now. (To be honest, it probably wasn’t the most healthy way of coping, but eh…who really cared at that moment?)</p><p>“Dang boys,” Ryan, one of the senior Warblers groaned, “I’m straight and I feel like I need a cigarette after watching that.”</p><p>Everyone laughed, even Kurt as he pulled away and rested his forehead on Blaine’s shoulder. “Show’s over, guys,” he said, glancing over at the two choirs. “Go talk about how you’re all better than each other or something.” </p><p>That caused a few squawks, which turned into a friendly if combative conversation on their performances. Kurt turned back to Blaine, who was smiling softly up at him. “Feeling any better?”</p><p>“Much,” Blaine whispered, not inaccurately. His hands were still a little shaky, but he was certainly more grounded than he had been before. Funny, because usually anybody touching him on days like these would set him off again, but Kurt was a very calming presence no matter what he was doing. “Thank you.”</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes, taking Blaine’s injured hand in his and tapping lightly at the bandages. Blaine winced a little. “Carole wants to look at this when we get home. Wes told me about it, and she’s concerned you might actually need stitches.”</p><p>Blaine eyed his hand contemplatively and then just shrugged. “I think…I think I may need to find a therapist, Kurt,” he said, sighing deeply. It bothered him a lot that all the years of therapy he’d gone through after moving to New York seemed to have been completely erased when he’d returned to his younger body. He’d complained about it to Kurt before, and Kurt had just replied that while he might have the memories, his body didn’t know how to react anymore. His brain was still to young, too close to the event, to have managed to get past it like Blaine had in the future. It was frustrating, but there wasn’t anything Blaine could think of to do except find a therapist.</p><p>His parents hadn’t been willing to pay for one the first time around; Blaine had gotten very, very good at acting.</p><p>“We’ll find you one,” Kurt murmured, pressing a kiss to Blaine’s temple. He slid off the boy’s lap, eyeing his friends, who were deep in discussion with the Warblers, all joking and happy and not very competitive. He knew they were exchanging stories about the two of them; the Warblers (minus Wes and David) hadn’t even known that Blaine was dating anyone, especially not someone from a competing choir. A choir that kind of considered Blaine to be their mascot and more or less refused to call him anything but Birdie. “Are you going back on stage for the placing?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Blaine said, pushing himself to his feet and sliding forward until he was shoulder to shoulder with Kurt. He was still shaky, still unsettled and not as happy as he could be. But he could fake it until Carole and Burt would take them home. Mr. Connally had already been informed of Blaine’s leaving after the competition, and Blaine’s bag was already packed and ready. Not that it really needed to be packed—he’d slowly been leaving more and more at the Hummel-Hudson household over the last few times he’d been there. It was almost as if he’d already moved in. (Kurt had already dedicated a drawer to him.)</p><p>Kurt wrapped a steadying arm around Blaine’s waist, under the blazer, and Blaine gave a small, relieved sigh. His hands were still shaking.</p><p>Nobody commented when the two choirs entered the stage in a jumbled mix of students. Mr. Schue just smiled indulgently, shaking his head in humor because that was just New Directions and they had all adopted Blaine a long time ago, so pulling the rest of the Warblers into the mix wasn’t all that strange. Mr. Connally was confused, rightly so, but saw that Blaine was more stable than he’d been all day and didn’t comment.</p><p>They tied. </p><p>Of course, they tied. Kurt and Blaine exchanged pleased looks; they hadn’t wanted to change too much about this timeline, so tying was a good sign. </p><p>And the two teams separated, Blaine saying goodbye to his teammates and friends and wandering off with the New Directions. The Warblers watched in amused silence as their lead soloist got pulled into a motherly hug by a woman they assume to be Kurt’s mother, and as a bald man who hugged Kurt patted him on the shoulder. Finn, the tallest boy some of them had ever seen, loomed over Blaine but just gave him a friendly fist-bump, not bothering to be offended when it took Blaine a long moment to return it.</p><p>They were a family and everyone, New Directions and Warblers, could see it.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tuesday’s glee class started a little oddly. Kurt more or less slumped into the room, dropped into a chair next to Finn and rested his head on his brother’s shoulder. “Wake me up if anything important happens,” he muttered, ignoring Finn’s completely startled look and the worried looks of their friends.</p><p>He was asleep almost instantly and after a moment Finn wrapped a gentle arm around his shoulders to make sure he wouldn’t fall of his chair or something. He was still learning about being a good brother, but he figured making sure Kurt didn’t break his face on the floor counted. And being a pillow during class.</p><p>“What’s up with Hummel?” Artie asked, frowning, his brow scrunched.</p><p>Finn sighed. “He was up with Blaine all night.”</p><p>Santana gave a wicked grin. “Wanky.”</p><p>Finn shook his head. “No. No…Blaine’s screaming woke us all up.”</p><p>Puck and Santana exchanged gleeful looks as the others in the room all kind of scrunched their faces. “Even more wanky,” Puck laughed.</p><p>Finn’s frown deepened. “Not like that,” he said. He cast Kurt a worried look. “Blaine was having nightmares. Kurt told us that he got triggered by something yesterday. He didn’t sleep, like, at all without waking up screaming.”</p><p>That sobered the room a bit. “Did…” Mike started asking, chewing on his lip a little. “Did he say what they were about?”</p><p>Finn shook his head, giving his own yawn. Despite Kurt and Blaine staying upstairs on the couch (although, surprisingly, Burt had given them permission to both be in Kurt’s bed that night, after the first nightmare) to try and let Finn get some sleep, he hadn’t gotten much more rest than Kurt had. “He wasn’t speaking English, dude. He doesn’t really, when he gets upset.” </p><p>“Right,” Puck nodded, exchanging looks with Sam. “He said English was like his third language.”</p><p>“Kurt said Birdie speaks like five or six, so they get jumbled sometimes,” Finn replied. He looked over to where Mr. Schue was just silently watching the class talk. He looked pleased at their win yesterday and didn’t seem like there was any pressing need to work on anything the day before break. Most of their teachers had been that way, today, which was great for Kurt and Finn who were too tired to really want to do any work.</p><p>They moved on, having a short conversation about Regionals, and then sang some fun songs together before breaking for the holiday. Classes continued, teachers reluctant to teach right before a long break, and school ended.</p><p>And Finn and Kurt walked into the house to see Blaine dancing wildly to music, wearing a McKinley Football hoodie that was way too big for him, reaching to almost his knees and covering his arms to the point that there was a lot of sleeve hanging over his hands, the hood pulled over his head and nearly swamping him completely. Carole was curled up on the couch, laughing so hard she had tears running down her face. </p><p>“Oh my Gaga,” Kurt murmured, grinning fondly. It was good to see Blaine so goofy and carefree after the past couple days they’d had.</p><p>“Hi, sugar!” Blaine said, grinning happily and stopping his dance. “Hi, Finn!”</p><p>Finn blinked at him, mouth agape. “Dude. You’re so tiny!”</p><p>Blaine pouted a little. “Why do you have a hoodie that’s so big anyway?” Because, truthfully, the hoodie was much too large for Finn too. “It ate me.”</p><p>“It did at that,” Kurt muttered, very very tempted to wrap his arms around Blaine and never let go. He looked freaking adorable.</p><p>Finn shrugged. “They ordered some wrong sizes and I just took one of them.” Extremely wrong sizes. This hoodie had to be at least an XXL.</p><p>“You’re never getting this hoodie back,” Blaine informed him solemnly. Carole cackled on the couch behind him.</p><p>Finn laughed then, rather amused. “Dude, Birdie. You’re supposed to steal your boyfriend’s clothes. Not your boyfriend’s brother’s clothes!”</p><p>“Kurt doesn’t wear hoodies,” Blaine said, as though that explained everything.</p><p>“You’re right, he doesn’t,” Finn said, nodding along as though it really did explain anything. </p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes and looked over to where Carole was sitting up, wiping tears from her eyes. “Hello, Carole. Did the two of you have a good day?”</p><p>Blaine bounced forward, wrapping his arms around Kurt and snuggling into him. Kurt merely returned the hug, pressing a kiss to the hoodie covered curls and focusing on Carole as she told of how Blaine had helped her with laundry (hence the fresh-smelling hoodie), and looking through the papers the realtor had sent on different properties.</p><p>Kurt and Blaine had agreed, reluctantly, that the house the Hudson-Hummel crew had bought last time just wasn’t right. It only had three bedrooms, and as much as Kurt had loved that house, there just hadn’t been enough room in the end. They needed an office for when his dad got into politics. They needed a guest room, just in case Sam eventually moved in. Or Blaine, depending. They needed a larger dining room. They, in short, needed a different house.</p><p>Blaine had been tasked with trying to find that house. Something that would work for the whole family, that Carole and Burt would love, and that they could happily grow old in. Somewhere future grandchildren could fill with laughter and giggles.</p><p>Carole was incredibly excited about one of the houses he had found for her. An older Victorian, on the edge of town, rather near where the garage was. It had four bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms, a full unfinished basement, and an entire attic space that could be used for just about anything. It was also situated on a third of an acre, so the yard was large and had huge trees. Blaine, actually, was a little in love with it as well. Carole wanted to take all three of ‘her boys’ to see it tomorrow, along with Burt. </p><p>“Oh!” Kurt said suddenly, when they were in the middle of preparing a simple dinner of salad and grilled trout. “I’m fully planning on doing Black Friday shopping. Does anyone want to go with me? Mercedes is.” Finn immediately made a face, shaking his head energetically.</p><p>“Oh, no thank you dear,” Carole said, chopping up some carrots. “I actually have to work on Friday.”</p><p>Blaine shook his head. “No. Too crowded. Sorry, mahal.”</p><p>Kurt smiled at him. “No problem. Anything you want?” he asked.</p><p>Blaine paused for a moment and then wiggled his fingers at his boyfriend. “Some fingernail polish?” he asked. He hadn’t, the first time around, painted his nails while in high school. He’d wanted to but being out and proud wasn’t quite the same as being out and showing it. Especially in Ohio. He hadn’t worked up the nerve until he’d been in New York for some time. And then he’d fully embraced some of the more feminine things he’d always been attracted to, like fingernail polish and eyeliner. Elliot had actually played a big part in that. Kurt, for his part, had never questioned him on it.</p><p>“Sure thing,” Kurt nodded immediately. “Any specific color?”</p><p>“Turquoise if you can find it,” Blaine shrugged. “Other than that, whatever.”</p><p>Kurt leaned over and kissed his cheek, his eyes proud. He knew that this was an achievement, for Blaine to be more of himself when they were still so young. Carole watched in silence, a small smile on her face. </p><p>“You’re freaking adorable,” Finn grumbled, rolling his eyes and stalking out of the kitchen. Blaine and Kurt exchanged befuddled looks before breaking into giggles. </p><p>They spent the night with Blaine playing mannequin for some of Kurt’s newest designs. Because while Kurt liked designing clothes for everyone, Blaine was always going to be his favorite person to design for. And Blaine wasn’t one to complain, because Kurt’s clothes made him look amazing, even if they seldom had bowties. (Kurt had, once, designed an entire ensemble for him based on his favorite bowties. Blaine had rewarded him for that very, very thoroughly.)</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~</p>
</div>Blaine woke up at the soft knocking on the doorframe, blinking sleepy eyes up at Burt from where he lay halfway across Kurt’s chest. Burt was smiling at him, tapping his wrist, and then he walked away, humming to himself. It was far more than Blaine had been expecting, even having lived through this life before. He’d never, ever, expected Burt to be so accepting of his son’s boyfriend sleeping in the same bed as said son so soon in their relationship. He hadn’t even been all that accepting of such back when Kurt and Blaine had been engaged.<p>It helped that Blaine actually slept through the night if he was with Kurt. Or, at the very least, he didn’t wake up screaming. And that they obviously weren’t having sex in Kurt’s bed. </p><p>Blaine smiled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and looking down at Kurt, still sleeping peacefully. He kissed Kurt’s cheek, lingering for a long moment. “Kurt, honey,” he whispered. “Time to get up.”</p><p>Kurt mumbled something, shifting over and dislodging Blaine from his chest, causing the younger boy to laugh softly. “No, mahal, it’s time to get up. Your parents want to go look at that house at ten, and it’s already eight.”</p><p>That woke Kurt up, and he sat up, rubbing at his eyes and yawning. Finn had, apparently, woken up already as his side of the room was empty. Kurt was a little surprised that he hadn’t managed to wake either of them upon leaving. Blaine was too, for that matter. </p><p>It took a few minutes, but eventually the two boys got up and got ready for the day. Kurt, of course, spent a lot of time on his moisturizing routine, and Blaine sat and made jokes. He was forgoing the hair gel today, because why not? He did not, however, forgo the contacts, as the last thing he wanted to deal with today were glasses.</p><p>They both dressed in clothes that were incredibly stylish, and Blaine even added a bowtie to his ensemble this time. Carole was quick to compliment them, having noticed that while they didn’t match, they did complement each other wonderfully. They generally did though, even when Blaine was in his Dalton uniform and Kurt was wearing designer labels. </p><p>Breakfast was a quiet affair, as everyone was just a little tired, and by that time they were running a tad bit behind. They all piled into Kurt’s Navigator, as it was the biggest car and why take more than one? The drive to the house wasn’t long, as Lima wasn’t all that big to begin with, but when they got there, they all just sat outside of it and looked for a long moment.</p><p>It wasn’t exactly a big house, but it certainly had a presence. It was three stories, including the attic, and had a tower on the left side (only up through the second floor), which connected to a large, wrap-around porch. It was painted yellow, with white gingerbread trim. A large maple tree was in the front yard, and roses at the base of the porch. </p><p>“It’s so pretty,” Carole said, eyes misting a little. “I’ve always wanted a house like this,” she admitted. “Thanks for finding it Blaine.”</p><p>Blaine shrugged. “Should probably see the inside before thanking me,” he said, waiting for either Finn or Kurt to exit the car so that he could get out, as he was sitting in the middle of them. Sometimes being the smallest had its downsides.</p><p>The inside was just as fascinating, if a little dated. Carole and Kurt had both agreed that the wallpaper and floral carpet would have to go. But the large kitchen (although seriously stuck in the eighties), decent sized dining room, large living room and extra den (as well as a half-bath) on the ground floor were exquisite with their original woodwork and stained-glass windows. The upstairs had four bedrooms, one of which a master suite, a bathroom and a linin closet. The attic was mostly an empty expanse, finished out with electricity and plumbing to the final bathroom, but not completely finished. </p><p>“Dad?” Kurt called, looking around the space of the attic. “Can I have this as my room?” he asked, knowing it would be perfect for his sewing and designing. There was even a tiny little walk-out balcony. A larger balcony was situated between the two front-facing bedrooms on the second floor, accessed by the tower bedroom. Kurt was pretty sure Finn wanted that room. The master actually faced the back of the house, kitty-corner to Finn’s future room. The main bathroom was between the two bedrooms on the left side, with the right-side bedroom in the front being the smallest of the lot. </p><p>“We haven’t decided if this house is the one, Kurt,” Burt answered, calling up the stairs. Blaine and Kurt exchanged looks because they’d seen how in love with the house Carole was. And that wasn’t even mentioning the large back porch or the huge oak tree in the yard. </p><p>“Someday, it will be us looking for our own house,” Blaine said softly, coming up behind Kurt to wrap his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, hooking his chin over Kurt’s shoulder. He wouldn’t be able to pull that move off for much longer; Kurt got so tall, while Blaine was obviously done growing. </p><p>Kurt smiled, curling his arms around Blaine’s and holding them in place. “I’ve noticed how much you like this house,” he whispered.</p><p>“I like old buildings,” Blaine admitted. “They feel more alive.” He’d never been one for the large, modern spaces his parents sought out. Give him an old, dusty building any day.<br/>
Kurt nodded. “I can get behind that.” </p><p>They turned and made their way back down the attic stairs at the back of the house, to the large, carved staircase that led from the first to second floors. Blaine’s phone rang and he pulled it out, grinning at the name on the screen. “Lolo!” he answered, excitedly, as he pretty much bounced past Burt and Carole while talking a mile a minute in Tagalog.</p><p>“Who’s Lolo?” Burt asked, frowning slightly as he watched Blaine. The last thing he wanted was for the boy to fall down the stairs.</p><p>“His grandfather,” Kurt replied with a small smile. “He lives in the Philippines. Blaine was trying to see if he could visit over Christmas, but it’s not going to work out. They’ve been talking almost every day since, though.”</p><p>Carole nodded slowly. “So, he’s going to be at his home for the holidays, then?” she asked, not sounding all that pleased by that. They knew, at least to some extent, how strained of a relationship Blaine had with his parents.</p><p>Kurt shrugged. “Unless Cooper invites him to LA or something. His parents are going to be in…Italy? Or France. I don’t remember.”</p><p>Burt grunted, obviously not pleased at that. “Some people shouldn’t be parents,” he grumbled. “So, I’m assuming he’s going to be joining us for Christmas?”</p><p>Kurt stared at him. He hadn’t wanted to ask, because this would be their first Christmas as a family, but he was grateful all the same that his dad was as awesome as he was. “If you don’t mind…”</p><p>Burt rolled his eyes. “Sure, kid. You know I don’t.” He sighed. “You’re going to marry that boy someday. I might as well get used to having him around.”</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes in a parody of his father. “Dad. We’re still in high-school.” Although, yes, he was going to marry that boy someday. They were, after all, already married.</p><p>Finn laughed behind the three of them, coming out of one of the rooms. “Dude. Everybody knows that you two are like, soulmates or something. It’s totally obvious.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rest of Wednesday was spent with Carole and Kurt baking and Finn, Blaine and Burt yelling excitedly over a football game. The house smelled amazing, everyone was happy, and there was a peaceful feeling about. </p><p>Thursday was spent cooking, eating amazing food and generally being a family. They had gone around the table, saying what they were thankful for, and no one was really surprised that everyone—Blaine included—had said they were thankful for this family. More football, that Carole and Kurt rolled their eyes through and made plans for the house that Burt and Carole were debating the possibility of buying. Board games were pulled out and played during a dessert of a multitude of different pies, and everyone was absolutely shocked when Carole destroyed them all at Cards Against Humanity. </p><p>Finn would probably never look at his mother the same way again.</p><p>Late in the evening, Blaine’s phone dinged its text-message tone, and he pulled it towards him, frowning. Kurt caught his eye, giving him a questioning look, and he turned the phone to his boyfriend, allowing him to see the message.</p><p><strong>From Cooper:</strong> <em> Happy Thanksgiving, Squirt. I love you. I’m sorry.</em></p><p>It was the first he’d heard from his brother for months (he wasn’t entirely sure how long it’d been, actually), and he didn’t quite know what to do about it. He texted back a quick, emotionless reply and focused on the family again. </p><p>That night, after about two hours of sleep, Blaine slipped out of bed, whispering to a sleepy, half-awake Kurt to get him to go back to sleep. He wandered up the stairs, book in hand, and settled onto the couch. When the others got up, about four hours later, he was halfway done with the novel. Kurt, already dressed and ready to go shopping, despite it only being about six in the morning, settled next to him, glancing at that cover of the book.</p><p>“Oliver Twist?” he hummed softly, tangling his fingers into Blaine’s curls, careful not to catch his fingers on Blaine’s glasses. Blaine gave a nod, flipping the page. “Okay. I’m headed out. I’ll see you later today. Finn has Puck, Mike, Sam and Artie coming over for a video game marathon, so you can join in on that if you want.”</p><p>Blaine hummed noncommittedly, pressed a kiss to Kurt’s lips, and continued to read. Kurt watched him for a moment and then nodded to himself. Cooper’s text had unsettled the boy, causing for a sleepless night, but there hadn’t been any nightmares, so he should be fine. </p><p>Later, Blaine was absently reading a Vogue magazine (having finished the book, which was probably only possible due to having read it multiple times before) while Finn and Puck battled it out on the television, Artie, Mike and Sam all cheering and shouting. Sam had, upon entering the house, grabbed Blaine up in a big, friendly hug (nearly startling the life out of him, really) and thanked him for the information on jobs. His father had applied for the job at Jeff’s father’s firm, and the day he’d been offered the position he had lost his current job. Because of the new job, they wouldn’t have to move and they wouldn’t lose their house. Sam was over the moon.</p><p>Blaine had waved him off, a little uncomfortable. He didn’t know how this would change things, because Sam would probably not be moving into the Hummel-Hudson house now, but it had worked out for the better, in his opinion. Kurt would probably agree with him; Sam had desperately missed his family while they were in Kansas.</p><p>There was a lot of noise from the boys playing games, and Blaine interjected every now and again with his own comments. He was rather focused on the magazine, though, as he really liked the article he was reading. And the model was absolutely stunning in her own way.</p><p> Sam glanced over at him, eyebrows raised. “Dude, you like Vogue?” he asked, surprised, but not condescending.</p><p>Blaine didn’t bother looking up, only used the hand that had been propping up his head to point at himself. “Gay.”</p><p>Finn frowned in his direction. “But you like football.”</p><p>Again, Blaine didn’t look up, merely pointed at himself again and turned the page of the magazine. “Guy.”</p><p>“But Kurt doesn’t like football, yo,” Artie said, although there was a hint of a smile on his face.</p><p>Blaine did look up at that, eyebrow raised and looking a little incredulous. “Because Kurt’s a different person?” he drawled. “I don’t know anything about cars and he’s a grease monkey. Just because we’re gay doesn’t mean we’re not human.”</p><p>“Whoa,” Sam said, holding up his hands. “No need to get defensive. We didn’t mean any harm.” Blaine gazed at all five of them for a long moment, noting that Puck and Mike hadn’t said a word during all of this, and then sighed, turning his attention back to his magazine with an absent wave of his hand. “You wanna play, dude?” Sam asked.</p><p>“Maybe later,” Blaine conceded. He was really tired and a little snappy, so sue him. </p><p>About an hour later, he was battling Artie at Mortal Kombat, leftovers on the coffee table, Burt wandering though on the phone about the Victorian. “Yo, Birdie,” Mike said, nearly breaking Blaine’s concentration. “Kurt asked if Tina and I would be willing to help him with a photo shoot on Sunday? You know what that’s about?”</p><p>“You too?” Sam asked. “He asked me as well. And Mercedes I think?”</p><p>Blaine nodded, pressing a few buttons and taking Artie down without any mercy. “He’s getting his fashion portfolio together. Wants to be ready to apply to fashion schools next year. Needs some models.”</p><p>Finn huffed a little, looking a bit confused. “I thought he wanted to do Broadway?” The others all murmured along, because that was all they’d ever heard Kurt talk about when he spoke of the future.</p><p>“Nah,” Blaine said. “Kurt says there’s not many places for a counter-tenor on Broadway. He likes performing but fashion is where he wants to go.”</p><p>Mike nodded. “Cool. I’m in. I don’t mind modeling for Kurt cause he makes awesome clothes.” Kurt had made most of their competition outfits over the past two years, as well as a few other fun things for performances. Hence why no one was worried about him not having their sizes.</p><p>Kurt wandered in a few hours later, arms filled with bags. “You need any help?” Blaine called from where he was in the middle of a Mario Kart race with Mike, Sam and Puck. He cursed softly when Mike managed to hit him with a turtle shell.</p><p>“No, I’m good,” Kurt said, dropping the bags and stepping into the room. He leaned down to press a kiss to the top of Blaine’s head. “I got the stuff you wanted.”</p><p>“Thanks, sugar,” Blaine murmured, scowling at the tv. “Damn it, Puck,” he grumbled, having been knocked off the edge. </p><p>Mike crowed as he won the race, and Blaine sighed, throwing the controller down. “Enjoy yourself?” he asked, leaning back to look at Kurt upside down. Kurt smiled down at him, nodding. “Cool.”</p><p>They settled in, Kurt taking a turn with Mario Kart and completely demolishing everyone on it. He was, after all, the undefeated champion of the game throughout all of the New Directions. And later, when the boys were all gone, and Kurt had painted Blaine’s nails a metallic turquoise, they cuddled and watched a few Disney films. Blaine, unsurprisingly, fell asleep during the middle of the second one, snuggled up to Kurt on his bed. </p><p>Kurt watched him sleep, a soft smile on his face. He’d checked the hiding spot where he’d put their marriage certificate the day that they’d been sent back. The date on it had changed, to a little bit after the date of Blaine’s nineteenth birthday.</p><p>Yay for magic.</p><p>At least the date had already been picked for them; one last thing to worry about.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hold still, I don’t want to prick you, but I will,” Kurt mumbled, mouth full of pins, as he knelt at Sam’s feet and fixed the hem on the pants he was wearing. </p><p>Mercedes choked on her drink, sputtering and laughing. “There’s a dirty joke in there, white boy, but I’m not going to say it,” she finally managed to get out. Everybody burst into laughter, Tina nearly falling off her chair, princess-like dress and all. </p><p>“Har de har,” Kurt grumbled, rolling his eyes as he got to his feet and looked Sam over. Awesome. He looked hot, which was what Kurt had been going for with this outfit. A take on the classic dress suit.</p><p>“Yummy,” Blaine whispered, eyeing up the blond and wrapping his arms around Kurt’s waist, causing the taller boy to giggle. </p><p>They’d been at the photo shoot for a few hours now, and honestly, they were all having a blast. Most of these outfits had been on the more formal side, with a few performance-like pieces thrown in. Kurt was good with more casual wear as well but had decided to focus on the fancier stuff this time around. </p><p>Despite having been a bit uncomfortable at first, Sam and Mike had definitely gotten into the spirit. They didn’t even mind when Kurt and Blaine got a little salacious in their comments, although when the two had been eyeing Mike as though he were a steak at one point, Tina had smacked them both over the head. Besides, the girls had been making all the same comments about all of the boys, Blaine included. </p><p>Blaine, for his part, was currently dressed in an outfit that Kurt had a hard time not just peeling off of him and showing him how it made Kurt feel. Honestly, Blaine was reminded of that time when he and the girls of New Directions had done a Diva photo shoot his senior year, only without the feathery jacket. He was wearing black leather pants, tucked into chunky boots that went halfway up his calf. His long-sleeved, scoop-necked collared white shirt was tucked into them, the sleeves just the slightest bit billowy although tight at his wrist, and his belt dark with a large silver buckle. Instead of a red jacket, he was wearing a tight, turquoise vest with silver accents and a large, double breasted collar. (Blaine had no idea where Kurt had gotten turquoise leather at a good price, because this vest was definitely leather and surprisingly comfortable.) It slimmed his already trim waist and he knew he looked absolutely delicious if the looks Kurt had been sending him meant anything.</p><p>Of course, that could also be due to the eyeliner and messy yet stylish curls he was sporting as well. He hadn’t shaved that morning either, so he was also a bit scruffy, which Kurt had once mentioned was a bit of a turn-on for him.</p><p>“Oh shit,” Blaine said, glancing at the clock. “I’m gonna be late.” He had a Warblers rehearsal in just over half an hour, due to a performance they were giving the next day. “Rehearsal. Sorry, mahal. I wasn’t watching the time. I don’t have time to change. I’ll get this back to you later?” he was rushing a bit, a little panicked. Thankfully, this was just a rehearsal and he didn’t have to be in uniform, especially as it was taking place on the weekend. Kurt waved him off with a comment about how he’d made the clothes for Blaine anyway.</p><p>“You guys rehearse on Sundays?” Mike asked.</p><p>“Most of us live at the school,” Blaine answered, grabbing his bag, which he’d packed earlier, oversized hoodie and all. “We rehearse whenever we’re told to. Mahal kita, honey,” he said, smacking Kurt’s cheek with a hurried kiss and running up the stairs. “Bye!” he called, hearing the others laughing at him and Kurt calling for him to drive safe.</p><p>He made it to Dalton in record time and sent a quick text to Kurt to let him know he hadn’t managed to crash on the way (and to thank him and Burt for fixing his car). He was a little sad he hadn’t gotten to say goodbye to Carole and Burt, as they’d been back at the Victorian for a closer look, but he’d see them again soon. </p><p>He got a few photos of Sam and Mercedes looking fabulous as a reply and smiled, stepping into the choir room. “Okay, I’m here and I’m officially not late.” Since he had, exactly, one minute to spare. </p><p>The room had gone completely silent upon his announcement and he looked up, stashing his phone in his pocket. Thank you, Kurt, for putting pockets in leather pants. “Umm…what?” he asked, a little wide eyed, because he wasn’t entirely sure how to take the looks he was getting. Only about half the boys were in uniform (or some semblance, as there were no blazers in sight). But all of them were staring at him with a look in their eyes that Blaine really, really didn’t want to say looked a lot like lust.</p><p>“You look…really, really hot, Blainers,” Nick said slowly. “What’s with the get up?”</p><p>Blaine licked his lips, suddenly a little more uncomfortable than he’d ever really been in this room. “Um. Photo shoot for Kurt’s fashion portfolio?” he replied uncertainly. “I was running a bit late and didn’t have time to change.”</p><p>“Uh huh,” Jason grunted, tilting his head to one side. “If I wasn’t straight…”</p><p>“<em>All</em> of you are straight. Remember?” Blaine said good-naturedly, because he really was the only gay guy in Warblers…or, well, the only out gay guy. He still had questions about Nick-and-Jeff and Wes-and-David. He’d never gotten answers about them last time around, either, as those two couples had continued dancing around each other for years. “And I’m beginning to feel a little…objectified. Also, what’s with the camera?” he asked, pointing to the video camera set up on the other side of the room.</p><p>“Oh. Dean Harkney wanted us to start recording random rehearsals and performances for the Board of Governors to see,” Wes replied, looking his friend over, with a slight smile. Why was it that Blaine looked more himself dressed like this than he did in the uniform?</p><p>“And you chose today to start?” Blaine asked with a sigh. Great. He was going to be on camera for the Board of Governors in this get up, that apparently made even straight guys question their sexuality. “Fine. Whatever. We going to start?” he asked, getting into position in front of the rest of the boys. </p><p>David cleared his throat and went over the setlist for their performance tomorrow, which would be at Crawford County Day. Blaine frowned at the named songs though, turning to face the council. “Wait. I thought we talked about this. Why are all the songs we’re singing the ones where I’m the lead?” he asked, sounding a bit more put out than one would have thought, all things considered.</p><p>“Because you’re sex-on-a-stick and you sing like a dream,” Thad said evenly, although a lot of the other boys crowed with laughter. </p><p><em>“Objectified,”</em> Blaine grumbled pointedly. “You do know that there are other people here that sing just as well as I do, if not better. Right?”</p><p>“Dude,” Trent called from the back. “If we put you on stage at Regionals dressed like that, they’ll just throw the trophy at us whether you sing or not.”</p><p>Blaine turned to look over all the boys, hands on his hips, and giving his best bitch-glare (courtesy of Kurt; he was a good teacher). “Do you <em>want</em> me to leave?” he asked, and the boys all settled down. “Okay,” he finally sighed. “I’ll cut you a deal.” He turned back to the council. “I won’t complain about the setlists for any performances for the next four months if I ONLY get one lead for Regionals.”</p><p>There was silence again, and then the council turned to the choir, which broke out into murmurs of negotiation. Blaine was beginning to miss New Directions and the constant fight for solos and leads. At least there he felt like he had competition, because nobody here ever wanted to go up against him. </p><p>“Deal,” Wes finally said. “One solo at Regionals for you. We’ll go over all that later. For now, we need to practice for tomorrow.”</p><p>Blaine rolled his eyes, turned back to face the other side of the room, and consequently, the camera, and began to sing. They ran through their six songs, working on the choreography and harmony until they were perfect. Not that they hadn’t been before.</p><p>And later, when Kurt texted Blaine to tell him how stunning he looked performing in the that outfit, Blaine found it hard to hate Wes for sending the video to his boyfriend.</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were in the middle of study hall, right before lunch, for which Blaine was entirely grateful. He was trying to come up with a good idea for Kurt’s birthday, which was in two weeks, but was having a bit of a brain fart. He knew what his husband-boyfriend liked but couldn’t seem to figure out just what a good gift would be this year. (And with it so close to Christmas, it always made shopping harder because he had to come up with two gifts, instead of one.)</p><p>The door suddenly burst open and Kurt stalked in, dressed just as impeccably as ever in skinny jeans and a tight black button-up, and looking rather angry. “Kamusta, sugar,” Blaine said, sounding a bit startled as he straightened up on the couch, setting his books aside. Kurt was supposed to be in school right now. Glee class, actually. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>“What isn’t?” Kurt burst out in French, talking rapidly. “Four of the football team decided that I needed to be put back in my place. They were apparently egged on by like, half the team. Right. Like I have a place in high school? What the hell? And they decided to jump me. Okay, sure, whatever. I took them down. Don’t ask me how because I still don’t understand that one.”</p><p>Blaine’s eyes had widened, and his eyebrows had crawled up to near his hairline. He nodded slowly, unsure what to say at first. “Are you okay?” he finally asked, because hello, Kurt had just taken on four football players.</p><p>Kurt blinked at him, groaned and then nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine,” he said, in much slower English. “But somehow I was the one who got blamed for ‘provoking’ them.” He rolled his eyes. “Because apparently all it takes is a gay kid walking down the hall for them to have a reason to resort to violence.”</p><p>“Kurt…”</p><p>The whole room was listening at this point, jaws dropped, but Kurt just waved it off. “So, the principal said that I was expelled, and I said, ‘okay fine, I’ll sue you’. To which he then said that expulsion was too hasty, so I was suspended instead. To which I said, ‘okay fine, I’ll sue you’.” He gave a mirthless chuckle, meeting Blaine’s concerned gaze. “To which the principal then said that suspension was unnecessary but maybe I should look into transferring to a school that was more accepting of…me. To which I said, ‘yeah, it’ll look great for your junior valedictorian to transfer due to blatant homophobia, bullying and favoritism. Oh, and I’ll sue you.’ To which he then called the Dalton Headmaster and worked out an ‘exchange program’ of sorts. So, I’m here for a week while they figure out how to fix some issues at my school.”</p><p>Blaine licked his lips, nodding again. “Okay. Do you want a hug?” he asked, still trying to process everything that Kurt had just ranted. Kurt sighed, pouted, and dove into his arms, burrowing himself in Blaine’s chest. Blaine chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to Kurt’s hair. “What happened to the football team?”</p><p>Kurt heaved a large sigh, settling into his boyfriend’s arms and refusing to get up. He needed the comfort and Blaine was perfectly willing to give it. “Well, Puck, Finn, Sam, Mike and Dave amazingly, are all fine. They weren’t involved. The others all got a slap on their wrist, since they were so clearly provoked into attacking me.” Blaine growled softly, his arms tensing, and Kurt rolled his eyes, patting Blaine’s hand. “Coach Beiste was not happy, however, and suspended them all from the team. And this week is a playoff game.” He met Blaine’s eyes then, letting him know that this was something they should have expected. Something similar had happened last time around, after all. </p><p>“That’s crazy,” one of the other boys in the room whispered. </p><p>“That’s McKinley,” Kurt retorted.</p><p>Blaine scoffed, rolling his eyes. “No. That’s Ohio public school,” he grumbled, settling back into the couch and refusing to let go of Kurt. “So, you’re here for the week?”</p><p>“As a sort-of transfer for a week,” Kurt nodded, nuzzling at Blaine’s chest. “At least I don’t have to wear the uniform. Oh, and I’m rooming with you as you’re the only one in Stanton without a roommate at the moment. I’ll be going to class with David, though.” </p><p>Blaine couldn’t help but grin at that. “And your parents are okay with that?”</p><p>“My parents have no problem with us sharing a bed at home, so they have no problem with us sharing a bedroom here,” Kurt replied, much to the surprise of all the boys in the room. Oh, the looks that were going around; Blaine glared at a few of them. “Also, they’re taking this week to go on their honeymoon.”</p><p>“Hawaii?” Blaine knew that that had been the original plan.</p><p>“Cincinnati, actually,” Kurt said, looking up with a small frown. “They wanted to use the majority of the money to redo the kitchen at the new house.”</p><p>“Wait…they bought the Victorian?” Blaine asked with a bit of a smile. He did really like that house, after all.</p><p>Kurt nodded, yawning a little. “Yeah. Fastest closing ever, too. Only took, like, four days. We have painters and carpeting and stuff happening at the moment and Carole wants to redo the kitchen, so it’ll be a bit before we actually move in though.”</p><p>“Awesome,” Blaine whispered. He pulled his pocket-watch out and glanced at the time, sighing a little. “We have to get to class, and then there’s lunch. Three more classes, an hour break and then Warblers, which I assume you’re going to this week?”</p><p>Kurt reluctantly pulled from the embrace and shrugged. “Sure. Why not?” he asked, stretching a little. “Thanks. Your hugs are the best.”</p><p>“You’re welcome,” Blaine said with a blinding smile, leading Kurt to David’s next class before heading off to his own. He was rather excited about having Kurt around for the week, even if he didn’t like how it came about.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~</p>
</div>“Welcome to Warblers,” Wes said grandly, starting the rehearsal. “We have with us today our endearing spy from McKinley. He’s here for a week this time, though, so say ‘hi’ everyone!”<p>All eighteen boys said ‘hi’, just as they had been told, and Kurt gave a little wave from where he’d been sitting on the couch. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not about to try and steal your ideas or anything,” Kurt said happily. He was pretty sure they weren’t working on Regionals stuff right now anyway. It was far too soon after Sectionals, after all. </p><p>“On that note,” David grinned, shifting on his feet. “Do you have any suggestions? From an outside point of view?”</p><p>“Wait,” a boy named Ethan said, raising his hand. “How do we know you won’t give us suggestions that would, like, sabotage us? You are competition after all.”</p><p>Blaine met Kurt’s gaze, rolling his eyes and mouthing the word “Rachel”. Kurt nearly laughed. “Yeah, no. If anything, I’m more likely to sabotage my own group. And believe me, at this moment they could probably use the kick in the pants.”</p><p>Blaine groaned from his place in the pack of boys, knowing what that comment had likely meant. “Geez. What happened now?” he asked, almost afraid to ask.</p><p>“Finn broke up with Rachel. Quinn broke up with Sam. Finn and Quinn seem to have something going on. Brittney and Artie are maybe breaking up? Something with Santana and Britt. And Santana and Dave? Oh…and Mr. Schue is still pining over Ms. Pillsbury.” Kurt sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “On the plus side, I’m officially on break as long as I’m here, because I don’t have to worry about homework or anything as long as I attend classes. Apparently, your headmaster was appalled by my school’s handling of things and figured I could use some downtime among friendly faces.”</p><p>Thad raised a finger. “Your school sounds insane. Also…is your entire glee club dating each other?” he asked, sounding completely incredulous.</p><p>“No,” Kurt replied. “<em>I’m</em> dating <em>Blaine</em>. The rest, however…yeah, I don’t know. I’d have to make a chart. They seldom date outside of the club, though, so…”</p><p>Wes shook his head. “Okay, whatever. Moving on. Why don’t we run through <em>Bills, Bills, Bills</em> and you can give us your feedback?” he asked, motioning the boys to move into formation. Blaine rolled his eyes, taking his spot in the front. </p><p>They performed the song, sticking to the proper choreography (which was a little surprising of Blaine, but Kurt was proud of him, nonetheless). Kurt claps politely at the end, smiling happily. “Okay, you want complete honesty?” he asked. </p><p>“Yes,” the boys all answered as one.</p><p>“Right,” Kurt nodded, steepling his fingers in front of his face, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. “First, you sounded amazing. Second, I have no idea what you’re doing for Regionals, nor do I want to know—”</p><p>“Doesn’t matter,” David griped. “We have to change our plans, since Blaine is refusing to take lead on everything.”</p><p>“That’s…probably a good thing, actually,” Kurt pointed out, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in amusement at Blaine’s cheer of agreement. “Anyway, I was going to say, that I don’t know what you’re planning but you may want to…um…brighten up your choreography a bit? It’s just…”</p><p>“Boring?” Blaine interjected, eyebrows raised. “Please say boring.” He’d been telling them this for ages, but no one ever really listened. It wasn’t until he actually took over teaching for a while that the Warblers had gotten more adventurous with their dancing. And then the whole place had burned down so…</p><p>Kurt just pointed at him. All the other boys groaned, grumbling to themselves. “Okay, look, your singing is amazing, and your harmonies are perfect. But any choir can do that. You need to add to it if you want to continue on.” He met Blaine’s eyes and they seemed to have an entire conversation without speaking, which ended in the both of them shrugging. “What if I were to show you some of New Directions’ performances, just to explain what I mean?” he asked. </p><p>There were a few murmurs among the group, even as David and Thad started setting up a projector and laptop. “Do you have them on your phone or something?” Thad asked, wanting to know if he had to connect any more devices. The projector was pointed at a blank wall, across from the windows, and someone was already pulling the curtains closed.</p><p>“No,” Kurt answered, strolling towards the laptop. “They’re on YouTube.” He thought for a moment and pulled up a recording of Sectionals from last year. “We had to come up with this setlist half an hour before competing due to someone stealing our original one.” The boys watched in absolute amazement. Kurt then put on a recording of their <em>Toxic</em> performance (sighing a bit at that one), followed by <em>Jump</em>, and then <em>Marry You</em> from the wedding. The Warblers were a little shocked to see Blaine participating in that one at first, until they realized they were actually at a wedding. </p><p>Kurt looked to the boys. “Are you beginning to see my point?” he asked and got a bunch of nods in return. “New Directions isn’t even the best out there. Now, I’m not saying you have to switch things up now, because that can be hard this late in the game. But you might want to consider it?”</p><p>“We’ll definitely consider it,” Wes murmured, feeling a little intimidated. He had a feeling that Kurt hadn’t even shown them the best stuff from his school group yet. Good thing they were all on YouTube, apparently; he had research to do later. </p><p>Blaine, by this point, had gravitated towards Kurt and was leaning against him tiredly. Kurt certainly didn’t mind, wrapping an arm around his waist without a thought. Wes was quick to release them after that, as he had a lot to discuss with the council.</p><p>Later that night, after curfew, Blaine and Kurt were curled up in his bed, the other bed in the room covered in Blaine’s textbooks and discarded clothing. Blaine was tracing his fingers along a dark bruise on Kurt’s shoulder, only visible due to the tank top he was wearing. He was frowning, having seen the rest of the bruises that littered Kurt’s back and chest as they had been changing for bed. “I’m fine, baby,” Kurt whispered, catching his hand and holding it to his lips. “Also, I really like the purple,” he commented, kissing each of Blaine’s purple-painted fingers. </p><p>“Thanks,” Blaine murmured, snuggling closer. “I don’t like seeing you hurt, mahal.”</p><p>“I know, B,” Kurt replied. “The same to you. But I really am fine. They’re just bruises. The football team actually fared worse than I did, and there were four of them.” He frowned a little, thoughtful. “That wish you made; it definitely is useful.”</p><p>“To be able to defend ourselves,” Blaine recalled. He heaved a sigh. “Apparently that doesn’t mean we won’t still be injured.”</p><p>Kurt shrugged. “That’s just life, honey,” he said softly. “But now we have a fighting chance.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurt sighed, relaxing into the couch the hour before Warblers. Going to classes with David had been fun, if only because he remembered these classes from the last time around and therefore was able to add to the conversations. He’d impressed the teachers, especially because everyone there knew that he wasn’t required to even pay attention to these classes, Kurt was just there to have a break from his own school. Really, the headmaster here was someone that both Kurt and Blaine aspired to be like someday.</p><p>Blaine was balancing on the back of the couch in bare feet. He’d toed off his shoes to jump up on the furniture and hadn’t been wearing socks at all, for whatever reason; Kurt had never bothered asking what Blaine had against socks. “I’m feeling a little guilty,” Kurt commented, watching as Blaine absently paced on the back of the couch, unable to stay still.</p><p>“Why?” Blaine asked, lifting his arms like he was walking a balance beam. </p><p>Kurt paused, knowing that the room was completely empty but also knowing it wouldn’t stay that way for long. “I’m writing <em>Loser Like Me</em>,” he answered. “I know that it’s not really my song,” he said hurriedly, having caught Blaine’s semi-shocked look. “But last time it was written as an apology to me by the entire group. They don’t have to apologize this time, and that song is kind of important to the club and it needs to be written, so I’m going ahead and writing it…”</p><p>Blaine waved a hand, smiling as he pivoted at the end of the couch and started back. “Stop. You don’t have to defend yourself to me,” he stated softly. “That song is important. Go ahead and write it.”</p><p>Kurt heaved a sigh. “Thanks for understanding, baby,” he whispered.</p><p>“Always,” Blaine replied, bending backwards and kicking his feet up into a slow handstand on the couch back. For being so tired, he certainly had a lot of restless energy. The door opened and remained that way as a few other boys started filing into the room, chatting about the upcoming Warblers practice. </p><p>Nick wandered over, eyeing the upside-down Blaine with a raised eyebrow. “Since when are you a gymnast?” he asked, plopping himself onto the couch and jostling it enough that it almost knocked Blaine off. Kurt kicked at him lightly in warning and Nick gave an apologetic shrug. </p><p>Blaine laughed, righted himself and jumped off the back of the couch, doing a simple backflip as he went and sticking the landing, lifting his arms in mocking success. He’d been a cheerleader, after all, and hadn’t let those skills lapse. For one, he’d worked way too hard to be able to do any of those moves, and for two, he’d always been afraid that Sue Sylvester would find out and track him down. </p><p>“Don’t let Coach Sue know you can do that,” Kurt warned with a laugh.</p><p>Blaine shuddered dramatically. “She terrifies me. I wouldn’t put it past her to kidnap me and use me as a cheerleading slave for her national’s performance despite not going to your school.” </p><p>Kurt rolled her eyes. “She wouldn’t do that,” he said.</p><p>Blaine shot him an unconvinced look. “Honey. Darling,” he stated blandly. “Elevator. And live bear.”</p><p>Kurt winced. “Valid points.”</p><p>Nick frowned, gaze pinging between the two of them. “I’m missing something here.”</p><p>Blaine waved him off. “It’s nothing important,” he said softly, throwing himself down on the couch between him and Kurt. Kurt immediately tucked his feet under Blaine’s thigh, even as Blaine slumped against Nick, who looked a little shocked at the motion. Blaine didn’t often initiate contact with anyone aside from Kurt. And, to be honest, Kurt had been a complete surprise to most of the group at Sectionals and since. Blaine seemed almost like a different person around him; a much more comfortable-in-his-own-skin person. “Huh. You’re kinda comfy,” the boy mumbled.</p><p>Nick stared at him, looked over to Kurt who just shrugged, and then laughed. “Sure, Blainers.” He looked back over to Kurt when Blaine relaxed further against him, his eyes falling shut. “Did he sleep at all last night?” Nick asked with a smarmy grin.</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes, knowing where Nick’s mind was. “Not really,” he answered truthfully. “And not for the reasons you think.”</p><p>“I thought you said he sleeps better when he’s being held,” Wes commented, flipping through sheet music and glancing at the three on the couch. </p><p>Kurt shrugged. “He does,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean that he always sleeps.”</p><p>“<em>He</em> is right here,” Blaine grumbled, lifting a hand and waving it in an absent motion.</p><p>“<em>He</em> is going to look over this music. We have a Christmas performance at King’s Island and you’re supposed to do a duet with one of the girls from County Country Day,” Wes stated, dropping the sheet music to <em>Baby It’s Cold Outside</em> in Blaine’s lap. Blaine gave him a pissy look, scrunching up his nose and sticking out his tongue. He hadn’t bothered auditioning for that King’s Island Special this time around, so of course the Warblers were going to do it instead. Thanks, Fate.</p><p>“I’d rather sing it with Kurt,” Blaine grumbled, flicking the papers with a finger.</p><p>Wes rolled his eyes. “Kurt, sadly, doesn’t actually go to this school and therefore can’t be your duet partner for this endeavor. Get over it.” Not to mention that no one here had ever actually heard him sing. Not on his own, at least.</p><p>Blaine scowled. “But the girls are always so…” he wiggled his fingers and scrunched his face, unable to put into words how the girls made him feel. Kurt hid a laugh behind his hand, nudging Blaine’s thigh with his foot.</p><p>Nick laughed. “Tough breaks, Blainey-boy,” he laughed, patting Blaine’s knee and pushing himself to his feet. “I guess we’re waiting to work on Regionals stuff until after Christmas?” he asked of Wes, who nodded.</p><p>Kurt smiled, nudging Blaine’s thigh again. “Sing with me later?” he whispered, motioning to the music on Blaine’s lap. Blaine smiled at him, giving a soft nod. This was one of their favorite songs to sing together, after all, and Blaine planned on recording themselves sometime. Maybe make a complete Christmas album, just the two of them. It could be fun.</p><p>Kurt let the music wash over him as the Warblers started working on their Christmas performance. It was nice and peaceful and he hadn’t realized just how much he needed this break from his own school. And Blaine was settling a bit, not as high-strung as he seemed to be when he would visit on the weekends. Or as twitchy as he sounded on their various phone calls during the week. </p><p>Yeah, this week was a needed one. And maybe his own school would get it’s act together in the meantime.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>*Mentions of suicide/suicidal thoughts</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurt sighed contently, his fingers running down the line of Blaine’s spine, slick with cooling sweat. Blaine, for his part, was stretched out on his stomach in his bed, a sheet across his lower back and legs, dozing. Kurt had already pulled on a pair of Blaine’s sweatpants and was just sitting, watching his husband-boyfriend, tracing patterns on his back. </p><p>Blaine murmured something tiredly, shifting just a little, and Kurt splayed his hand out over Blaine’s hip, shushing him quietly. Blaine stilled, sighing softly and relaxing into his pillow. It was the most at peace he’d looked all week and Kurt was glad that he’d had some hand in it.</p><p>Their first time in this timeline hadn’t been too much different than in the last in how sweet and perfect and loving it had been. They knew more about each other, about what they liked, and had a lot more experience, but the effect was the same. And Kurt had reveled in the feeling of love that had encompassed his heart, both his own and Blaine’s, as he had hovered above his soulmate and brought them both to completion. </p><p>They’d had all kinds of sex over the years of being together, but this kind was always going to be Kurt’s favorite. The slow, sweet coming together as an act of love and passion. It didn’t matter if it was here in Blaine’s dorm, or in their tiny apartment in New York, Kurt loved his husband with everything he had and rejoiced in the opportunity to show him.</p><p>It was a little sad, though, at the same time, because Blaine had been so unsettled before this moment. And they’d been so happy before they’d died. </p><p>“What are you thinking about?” Blaine asked softly, clearly not as asleep as Kurt had thought. </p><p>Kurt hummed gently. “Happily ever after,” he answered, and his tone was telling in its sadness. Blaine turned, rolling onto his side, facing Kurt so he could look up at him through half-lidded eyes. Kurt let his hand rest of Blaine’s slim waist, his thumb rubbing over Blaine’s belly and around his navel. Blaine was so tiny, sometimes, he thought. So strong and sturdy and so very tiny that Kurt sometimes thought he could wrap his hands around Blaine’s waist and his fingers would connect on either side. It was very alluring, in its own way.</p><p>“What about happily ever after?” Blaine asked, resting his head on his arm and breaking Kurt from his thoughts.</p><p>“How it’s not fair,” Kurt whispered. “We were there, weren’t we? We were happy and safe and together. We finally got where we were supposed to be, and now we’re back here and having to work to do it all over again. And you’re so anxious all the time, baby. So much more than you were before.”</p><p>Blaine stilled, froze really, his gaze skittering away from Kurt for a moment. “No,” he whispered, and it was almost choked. “No…I’m so much better than I was before.” Kurt said nothing, just tilted his head and gazed at his husband-boyfriend with concerned glasz eyes. “Kurt…I…” Blaine paused, licking his lips, trying to find the words. “I’m an actor, Kurt, even if I don’t enjoy it all the time.”</p><p>Kurt hummed softy, brushing Blaine’s curls back from where they’d broken free of the gel. “I know,” he murmured.</p><p>“No, you don’t,” Blaine replied, because he’d never told Kurt this. His therapist had known, eventually, but he’d never told Kurt just how much he had been acting before. “Did you know you saved me, Kurt?” he asked, catching Kurt’s startled gaze and holding it. “That day when you stopped me on the staircase? I was just going to have one more performance. One more little slice of happiness and then…” he broke off, taking a deep breath. “The box is probably still under my bed.” He hadn’t gotten rid of it until sometime after Valentine’s Day the last time around.</p><p>“Blaine?” Kurt asked, his voice breaking a little.</p><p>“I gave you my number and told you to call me if you needed to talk,” Blaine said, a little faintly. “So, I had to stay, just for a little while, in case you had to talk. And you did and we kept talking. And then I tried so hard to keep from falling for you. To keep you from falling for me because you didn’t need someone as broken as me. The Gap Attack, dating Rachel, all of it was because I didn’t want you to be stuck with me when I knew I was just biding my time and then…” He frowned, his golden gaze skittering away again. “And then I realized just how much I needed you. How happy it made me to be around you. How much I had already fallen in love with you.”</p><p>Kurt swallowed harshly, his hand on Blaine’s waist tightening just a little. “Baby?”</p><p>“I’m not acting as much, this time around,” Blaine whispered. “I don’t see the point. I haven’t thought about it for so long, thought about ending it like that.” His eyes fluttered shut and he curled slightly, shifting closer to Kurt. “Not since we broke up that first time.” Because he had learned, then, that he <em>could</em> live without Kurt, even if he desperately didn’t <em>want</em> to.</p><p>“Blaine, baby, what’s in the box?”</p><p>Blaine sighed, his fingers finding Kurt’s free hand and tangling them together. “Pills. Bottle of Jack. Box cutter. Letter.” He shrugged the best he could, curled on the bed the way he was. “Haven’t touched it since that day. Not this time around.” He drew in a deep breath. “I want you to get rid of it for me?” he said, although it was much more a question than it was a request.</p><p>“No,” Kurt stated calmly. “I want you to have Wes get rid of it for you,” he responded.</p><p>Blaine’s eyes opened, brow furrowed. “No, Kurt. I don’t want him to—”</p><p>“Blaine,” Kurt interrupted. “I’m only here for the rest of this week. And I know that you’re better than you were the first time around, but you’re nowhere near okay even if you’re acting it. And that’s fine. It’s perfectly fine to be not okay. But I want someone here, in Dalton, to know that you’re not okay even if you’re pretending to be.”</p><p>“But I’m not going to—”</p><p>“Do you know that for certain?” Kurt asked him, voice breaking just a little. “Because, baby, we <em>know</em> what’s coming. And I know <em>you</em>. And I can’t be here for you the way I want to be.” </p><p>Blaine was silent for a long moment, just breathing, focusing on a spot on the wall past Kurt. Focusing on the feel of Kurt’s hand on his waist, his thumb sliding comfortingly against skin. “Okay,” he finally said, soft and fragile in the stillness of the room. “Okay. But we have to do it now or I’ll never…”</p><p>“I know,” Kurt whispered, leaning forward to press his lips against Blaine’s forehead. “Get dressed and we’ll go now.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~</p>
</div>Wes opened the door at the soft knock, glancing at the clock and frowning at the time. It was past curfew. David was watching from his own bed, eyebrows raised, as Wes greeted Blaine softly. Their friend was holding a small, shoe-box sized box in his hands. “What can I do for you, Blainers?” he asked.<p>“I need you to get rid of this for me,” Blaine said, and his voice was halting. He was refusing to meet Wes’s eyes, and looked incredibly reluctant to even be there at all.<br/>
Wes gently took the box, still frowning. Something was wrong. “What is it?” he asked.</p><p>Blaine shook his head. “Doesn’t matter anymore. I just need it gone. And Kurt said that you needed to do it because it’s okay for me to pretend to be fine so long as someone here knows that I’m just acting.” </p><p>This wasn’t making much sense, and the worry was growing in the pit of Wes’s stomach. “Blaine? Are you okay?”</p><p>“Better than I have been,” Blaine answered, for once honestly. And that was enough to comfort Wes to some degree and terrify him at the same time. Blaine always, always, answered with ‘fine’ if you asked him how he was, regardless of the truth.</p><p>“Can David know what’s in the box?” Wes asked, his voice gentle. Blaine was skittish, constantly glancing over his shoulder to where Kurt was waiting down the hall, near the stairs.</p><p>“Um…yeah,” Blaine replied, because he knew that it wasn’t fair to dump this on Wes without letting him have some kind of support. “But just David. I don’t want anyone else…I’m trying, Wes. I really am. I…” He broke off and then scampered down the hall, allowing Kurt to tuck him under his arm and lead him away. Kurt shot him a small, sad smile over his shoulder as they went, and Wes retreated back into his room.</p><p>“What’s in the box?” David asked with unbridled curiosity. He’d heard the conversation but hadn’t seen Blaine at all from where he was seated. He didn’t know how worried Wes actually was. “Blainers wanting you to get rid of his porn collection?” he asked with a grin. </p><p>“I dunno,” Wes mumbled, stepping further into the room.</p><p>David stood, shrugging, and flipped the lid off the box. There was silence for a long moment before David started swearing and Wes sat heavily on his bed. He placed the box on the ground, pulling the letter from it and looking at the date written on it with a frown. Grabbing his phone, he flipped through the calendar and noted that it had been written the same day as their Teenage Dream performance. </p><p>“God, we owe Kurt so much right now,” Wes whispered, letting the letter fall back into the box, unopened and unread. He very much did not want to know what had been going through Blaine’s head that day. </p><p>“Okay,” David said firmly, putting the lid back on the box with shaky hands. “Okay. Blaine said he’s trying. So, we’ll help him and get rid of his box.”</p><p>“Right,” Wes replied with a nod, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Right.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Breakfast Wednesday morning was a little different. Kurt wasn’t with Blaine, for one, as the shorter boy had been cornered by Wes and David that morning and led off to have a discussion that Kurt felt he really didn’t need to be part of. Wes knew when to stop pushing, and Blaine really did need to talk, so the countertenor let himself find something else to do while eating.</p><p>Which meant sitting down right in between Jeff and Nick and giving them his best arched look. “Good morning, boys,” he said haughtily. “I have a bone to pick with the two of you.”</p><p>The two Warblers gave him wide-eyed looks, mouths full of food. They really didn’t know what they had done to gain the other boy’s ire, and they exchanged baffled gazes. “What did we do?” Jeff asked, once he had swallowed.</p><p>“This dance that the two of you are doing,” Kurt said, eyes narrowing just a little. He shoveled some food into his mouth. “The sexual tension is getting to the point that even Blaine is noticing, and honey, that boy is oblivious to most things of this nature. So, get a move on a figure it out.”</p><p>Nick nearly choked. “I’m not gay,” he sputtered, waving his spoon.</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say you were, dear,” he drawled. “But you definitely ain’t straight.” He pointed at Jeff. “And don’t you start.” He returned his attention to his meal, and silence reigned at that end of the table.</p><p>Kurt finished his food and got to his feet. “As you were, boys,” he said with a slight smile. He walked away, leaving the two Warblers staring at each other. And oh, Jeff was blushing. How cute.</p><p>He made his way to where Wes was hugging Blaine tightly. They weren’t talking, and David had left to grab food for them before the breakfast line closed, but it was obvious that the discussion had been emotional. Both of them looked exhausted, Blaine far more so. Kurt had had a hard time getting him to sleep after visiting the Top Floor last night. </p><p>He stopped behind the two, reaching out to run a hand across Blaine’s shoulders. “You guys alright?” he asked softly. They were garnering a few glances from other boys, especially those of the Warblers in the room, but not a one lingered or judged. </p><p>“We’re fine,” Wes choked out. He squeezed Blaine just a little tighter and then released him, nudging him into Kurt’s arms. </p><p>Kurt smiled, wrapping his arms around Blaine, who sagged against him and tucked his head into Kurt’s neck. “You have classes, baby,” he whispered. “Are you going to be okay?”<br/>
“Yeah,” Blaine responded, his answer more a sigh than a word.</p><p>“Your hands are shaking,” Wes pointed out softly.</p><p>Blaine pulled back from the embrace, holding out his trembling hands and staring at them for a moment. “Well, yeah. That seems to be a normal state for them lately.” He shot Kurt a crooked smile. “Darn you for making me acknowledge my poor mental health.” It was said in jest and Kurt knew it, knew that Blaine was in a good enough state to be joking, and that his husband-boyfriend was thankful to have Kurt there to help him.</p><p>“Thanks, Kurt,” David said as he sidled up and handed Wes and Blaine an apple and piece of toast each. “For making Blaine acknowledge his poor mental health.” This was not said in jest, and Kurt gave both him and Wes a slow nod. Wes sighed, looked over the boys in the cafeteria and then called out to Thad. </p><p>Thad came over, frowning in concern and looking over Blaine, who honestly wasn’t looking up to his usual dapper standards. In fact, he looked a little like how he’d looked after their Sectionals performance before Kurt had shown up. “What’s up?”</p><p>“Keep an eye on Blainers, here,” Wes said, even as Blaine rolled his eyes and Kurt kissed Blaine’s temple, right at his hairline. Wes made a vague gesture. “He’s in most of your classes, right? Make sure he actually goes to them?”</p><p>“Yeah, sure,” Thad said, his frown deepening just a bit. He let his gaze go to Blaine. “You okay, man?”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Blaine muttered, giving a huff. “They’re all being mother-hens, is all.”</p><p>“Uh huh,” Thad nodded, his eyebrow raising. “Your hands are shaking.” The Warblers knew about the PTSD at least, even if they didn’t know the cause or the triggers. (To be fair, even Blaine couldn’t identify his triggers most of the time, which was incredibly frustrating.) Besides, most of the Warblers had figured that Blaine had some sort of anxiety disorder since the moment he had joined the group his freshman year; it was the only way to explain his overall distance, despite being a charming, dapper, seemingly outgoing young man.</p><p>Blaine groaned, running one hand down his face. “Gee, thanks for pointing that out. Look, it’s been a rough morning. Can we just forget about it and move on now?” He got tired smiles for that one, concerned looks, but they were all happy at the same time. Because they knew that Blaine was trying, and he was healing and Kurt at least knew that he was so much better this time around than he had been last time. </p><p>Thad grabbed Blaine’s elbow, apologizing softly when the boy flinched at the touch, and led him away. Wes, David and Kurt watched for a moment, before Wes pulled Kurt into a strong, quick hug and released him, also walking off to go to class, not bothering to say a word. David sighed. “Really, though, Kurt,” he mumbled, turning to go to class as well with Kurt following obediently behind. “Thank you.”</p>
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</div><p>The moment classes let out, Blaine made his way to Kurt. His hands had refused to quit shaking all day, and it was to the point that his rebuilt hand was aching fiercely, and Blaine was nursing a headache as well. He felt a little crappy, knew his friends were worried about him, and all he wanted was a cuddle. Forget Warblers and Christmas concert preparations. He just wanted to find Kurt and snuggle for a bit and maybe he could forget that last night happened.</p><p>Well, the second part of last night. The first part had actually been good. Really, really good. And maybe, if he was lucky, he could have a repeat of that part tonight.</p><p>He found Kurt in the Warblers Commons, which really wasn’t much of a surprise. All the Warblers tended to congregate in the Warblers Commons when classes weren’t in session and students weren’t relegated to their dorm buildings (since the main building closed at seven, just after dinner ended). Kurt, also, didn’t seem to disagree with giving him cuddles, which was good. Although, to be fair, Blaine didn’t really give him a chance to disagree since he just climbed onto Kurt’s lap on the couch, curled up and tucked his head under Kurt’s chin without a single word.</p><p>Kurt, for his part, didn’t ask and didn’t even pause in his conversation with Wayne. He merely shifted so the two of them were comfortable, wrapped one arm around Blaine’s waist and gently grabbed the hand that Blaine had been unconsciously flexing and started to massage it, placing just the perfect amount of pressure in the perfect spots to help relax the strained muscles and pained nerves. He’d been doing this for years and knew better than to comment when Blaine got into a cuddle mood like this; it hadn’t really been a bad day, but it had been a long one.</p><p>Wayne had faltered a bit at Blaine’s arrival, but to his credit, he seemingly decided to ignore the other sophomore’s presence and continue talking.</p><p>Blaine tuned into the conversation long enough to note that Kurt and Wayne were talking about the socio-economic state of Italy versus France and how tourism affected both countries, before fading it out and simply humming softly to himself. He, honestly, couldn’t care less about Italy or France at the moment, but more power to them for talking about it. </p><p>“<em>Rainbow Connection</em>?” Kurt asked, some time later. Blaine wasn’t sure how long it had been, he’d just been off in a corner of his mind, enjoying Kurt’s presence.</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“The song you’re humming,” Kurt explained, ducking a bit to nuzzle Blaine’s cheek with his nose. “<em>Rainbow Connection</em>.”</p><p>Blaine paused, thinking back, and then gave a little shrug. “Guess so,” he mumbled. He gave a yawn, pressing his head into Kurt’s collarbones just a tad bit harder. “We still going to the game on Friday?”</p><p>“Yup,” Kurt answered, watching as the rest of the Warblers started getting into some kind of formation. Soon they’d be asking for Blaine to join them. He tightened his arm around Blaine’s waist, setting Blaine’s hand down, the trembling having ceased ten minutes into the massage. “ND finally does Michael Jackson and I’m not even there to join in.” He smiled a bit, knowing that they’d be doing even more MJ next year. Hopefully without any hospital visits this time around.</p><p>“<em>Thriller</em> and <em>Heads Will Roll</em>, right?” Blaine asked, sighing in defeat as David started calling for him. He slid off Kurt’s lap, stretching. </p><p>“Yeah,” Kurt said. “Hey, Wes!” he called, gaining the Asian’s attention. “I know you’ve been studying ND for a few days. If you want to see what they can do with a week’s preparation, you can come to the game with Blaine and me on Friday. They’re doing the half-time show with the football team.”</p><p>Wes glanced at David, who gave a nod, and then turned to give Kurt a thumb’s up. Kurt nodded back and then turned his attention to his phone and the conversation he was having via text with Mercedes and Tina. They were having a rather impassioned discussion about the latest issue of Vogue. Kurt couldn’t help but feel just a little out of place; he’d lived this before. He’d worked for Vogue. Had his own fashion line. Was a known name in certain circles (especially those of Broadway, what with his costume designs appearing on a few of their shows). High-school conversations sometimes got a little…juvenile. </p><p>On the plus side, he knew that Blaine felt the same. Blaine had said as much, after all, and the two had had many conversations about the time-travel issue. A few panic attacks about it as well, on both sides. Sometimes their phone conversations were better left unheard by anyone else.</p><p>For better or worse, right?</p><p>It was twenty minutes into the meeting and the Warblers were hashing out the percussive voicing for <em>Oh Holy Night</em>, when Kurt realized that Blaine was beginning to drift a bit. Clearly having two bad nights in a row, two incredibly emotional discussions in the past 24 hours and a long school day were taking their toll on the boy. Also, he really couldn’t care less about the percussive elements to the song; Blaine had already been informed that he’d be taking lead with Greg McDonnall, a senior member, the two of them singing in harmony with the rest of the Warblers backing. He just had to make sure his part was good, and the rest didn’t matter so much.</p><p>Kurt gave a soft whistle, gaining Blaine’s attention immediately, but also that of the rest of the group. He rolled his eyes, waving off the other Warblers while also motioning Blaine over. Wes frowned at him, opening his mouth to say something, but Kurt cut him off. “Really, Wes, you’re working on harmonies. You don’t need him for the moment.”</p><p>Blaine sat down next to Kurt with a sigh and watched as the other Warblers all commenced what they were doing, although Greg decided to plop himself down in an armchair across the way a bit. Apparently, he wasn’t all that interested in the percussive elements either. “Yes, mahal?”</p><p>“Where were you?” Kurt asked softly, voice just barely louder than a whisper.</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>Kurt ran his fingers over the back of Blaine’s hand. “You’re drifting a lot today,” he said quietly. “It’s a little worrying.” Thad had mentioned that while Blaine had been in classes, he hadn’t really been paying much attention. Considering Blaine had been about to graduate college (with honors, take <em>that</em> NYADA), Kurt wasn’t all that concerned about his grades. In fact, at this point, Blaine could probably skip ahead to the grade he was supposed to be in. Or, you know, out of high school entirely. So could Kurt, for that matter.</p><p>“I’m okay,” Blaine whispered back, slumping into the couch. “Just really tired. Like…existentially.” </p><p>Kurt took a breath and let it out slow. “See, that doesn’t make me worry any less.”</p><p>Blaine turned his head to give him a slow smile. “I really am okay, love,” he replied. He gave a bit of a shrug. “Things are just a little heavy at the moment.”</p><p>“You need sleep,” Kurt pointed out, glancing to the rest of the group. It sounded a bit like they were about to run through the song in its entirety. </p><p>Blaine rolled his eyes. “I always need sleep,” he muttered. “I’d rather…sing.” Kurt raised an eyebrow and then pointed to the Warblers, but Blaine shook his head. “No. Not Christmas. You know how I am about Christmas.” Meaning that Kurt knew that while Blaine liked the holiday well enough, he had weird feelings about it. His family had never made the holiday anything special. In fact, Blaine was more used to being alone for the three weeks of break than he was spending the time with family. Even with him celebrating Christmas with Kurt for the past few years. Next few years? Whatever.  “I want to sing something fun. Like…<em>Last Friday Night</em> or…<em>Daydream Believer</em> or something.”</p><p>Kurt smiled softly. “Okay. After practice, we’ll go back to your room, break out your guitar and have some fun singing.”</p><p>Blaine grinned and then flopped sideways so his head landed in Kurt’s lap. He rolled, pressing his face into Kurt’s stomach. “You’re the best,” he mumbled, nuzzling closer.</p><p>Kurt laughed. “Get up, Blanderson,” he said fondly. “Your adoring backup singers need you.” </p><p>Blaine groaned, rolling himself off Kurt and onto the floor, where he let himself fall with a thump and lay face down. “I don’t wanna!” he yelled at David, who had been calling for him. Greg was already standing in front of the main group of singers. Quite a few of the boys snickered at Blaine’s display.</p><p>“You’re not allowed to complain, remember?” Wes asked, hands on hips and a superior look on his face. </p><p>Blaine rolled his eyes, pushing himself to his feet. “Right. Stupid deal. Why did I do that again?”</p><p>“Because you’re weird and don’t like being the center of attention?” Greg asked. He, for one, couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around Blaine not wanting all the solos. Blaine was, easily, the best singer of the group, but didn’t seem to have that opinion about himself. In fact, none of the boys could understand Blaine’s want to step down from having the lead in everything. Not that they weren’t grateful that the sophomore was willing do so if someone else wanted the spot. Only, none of them actually <em>did</em>.</p><p>Blaine took his position, and they ran through the song. They had to go over a few spots a couple times, but by the end of the practice, the song sounded beautiful. Kurt had even applauded them with a big grin. Kurt, for the record, thought that the Warblers should put out a Christmas CD. (He’d always thought that, to be honest. As well as just recording their music in general. The Warblers were, after all, incredibly talented.)</p><p>When they got back to Blaine’s room, they decided to leave the door open. Blaine brought his guitar out from under his bed, strumming softly before looking up at Kurt with a grin and starting a Katy Perry song. It ended up being a bit of a party, as other boys joined them, starting with Wes and David and Nick and Jeff, and ending up with almost all of the Warblers and a few other Stanton Boys. The hallway was crowded with singing and dancing teens, and Blaine was laughing and dancing around his room with Kurt. The guitar had been carefully passed around to others who could play as well.</p><p>By the time everyone cleared out, it was well past curfew (oops) and the two time-travelers were rather happily tired. But Blaine’s eyes were dark, and his hands were gentle, and Kurt responded as he usually did in those situations.</p><p>Blaine did, indeed, get his wanted repeat performance that night.</p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thursday passed with bright eyes and brighter smiles and a good night’s sleep. And then it was Friday, classes were over, and the boys were making plans to head to Lima. Wes and David were going to go to the game with Kurt and Blaine and then head out to Wes’s house. Blaine would be staying with Kurt, as he usually did on weekends these days, and spending Saturday and Sunday helping Kurt’s family move into their new house. The kitchen was nearly done being overhauled as Carole had decided to keep the cabinets that were there (when they learned that they were cabinets that had been put in back in the 1920’s and just painted that awful color) and have them refinished. As such, they figured it was time to move, since an offer had just been placed on their current house.</p><p>There was a bit of drama in the day when Nick grabbed Jeff and kissed him full on during the middle of lunch. Everyone had stared for a moment, and then Kurt had turned and handed Blaine a ten-dollar bill, much to the amusement of the rest of the table filled with Warblers. “Told you they wouldn’t last past this week,” Blaine muttered, looking incredibly satisfied.</p><p>Kurt had grumbled and everyone had moved on, allowing the two boys in question to have a much-needed discussion without eavesdroppers. </p><p>Kurt pulled into McKinley’s parking lot, Wes’s car following to park next to his Navigator. He turned, smiling at Blaine, who was watching him quietly. “I love you,” he said softly, eyes softening as Blaine’s answering grin lit up his face. Blaine whispered it back, although in Italian. And then, after a quick, chaste kiss, the two got out of the car.</p><p>“Come on, sugar,” Blaine said. “Let’s go watch your friends play football.”</p><p>And hadn’t that been an interesting conversation to have with Wevid. Trying to explain exactly why the football team had joined Glee for the week, and why Glee had joined the football team. Things at McKinley were just as convoluted as usual, it seemed.</p><p>Although, Dave Karofsky seemed to have been getting his head on straight. Therapy had been helping the boy a lot. He hadn’t come out, and Kurt honestly didn’t expect him to any time soon, but he was pretty sure that Dave’s dad knew by this point, and both he and Blaine hoped that this new direction Dave was taking would circumvent the suicide attempt that had happened or would happen or whatever the verb tense was supposed to be there. In fact, Dave would probably be fine with just staying at McKinley, since he and Kurt, while not exactly friendly, were on better terms now.</p><p>Also, there’d been no death threats, so that was good.</p><p>They made their way into the bleachers, sitting a few rows down from Kurt’s parents who had just returned from their honeymoon and come straight to the game. Kurt, for the record, figured that the two deserved to have a little more alone time while watching the game and didn’t have to deal with three teenage football fans on top of dealing with Kurt himself. Not that he was hard to handle or anything but well…</p><p>The game went just as Kurt and Blaine remembered it going. Meaning, it wasn’t exactly going well for McKinley. Kurt still winced as he watched Tina get tackled. He knew she was okay, of course, but it still looked incredibly painful. He still didn’t see the appeal in football and didn’t think he ever would. Good thing Blaine didn’t mind.</p><p>And then it was halftime and music filled the stadium.</p><p>“Holy crap, they’re amazing,” Wes whispered, leaning forward. He seemed completely enthralled in the performance. “We’ve never thought of mashing songs like this. Never songs by two different artists.”</p><p>“It’s kinda what we do,” Kurt shrugged, dancing in his seat a little. Blaine was softly singing along, having watched the recording of this performance often enough to know it by heart. It was one of his favorites, for whatever reason. To be honest, it was a favorite of Kurt’s as well.</p><p>“That dancing, though,” David murmured, grinning brightly in excitement. “And in football uniforms!” He looked over to Kurt. “How high is your budget for this? The outfits and makeup are superb!”</p><p>Kurt frowned a little. “You know,” he drawled. “We don’t actually have that much of a budget. In fact, Glee relies completely on winning competitions or it’ll be disbanded completely. I have no idea how we get the money for our costumes…or rather the materials. Because I make the costumes for the most part. Not these ones, of course, but usually. And I don’t buy the material.” He’d never questioned it before but maybe he should. It really was a good question. The club didn’t even have enough money for a bus to Regionals, but they always managed to have money for material for amazing costumes. Sometimes on a weekly basis.</p><p>Blaine glanced at him before returning his attention to the field. “But didn’t you guys have a rain machine a while ago? For the <em>Singing in the Rain</em> and <em>Umbrella</em> mashup?”</p><p>“Wait, what?” Wes asked, sounding intrigued. That particular performance hadn’t made it to YouTube yet, apparently. </p><p>Kurt tilted his head to one side. “Yeah…but I think that the rain machine was actually installed for a Cheerios routine. The stage floor was already warped from previous flooding due to it, so we got permission to use it one more time before the stage was replaced, since it was already damaged. Coach Sue had to deal with the fallout from that one.”</p><p>Blaine shook his head. “The things that woman does…”</p><p>“Tell me about it,” Kurt said, jumping to his feet to cheer and yell at the end of the performance. He had always thought that this one was one of the better ones the club had done. He then spent the rest of the game answering questions from Wes about how New Directions ran their club. How they had weekly assignments from Mr. Schue and didn’t even think about competition pieces until like, two weeks before, if that. How they randomly sang songs based on emotional need or whatever. It was completely different from the Warblers, and he could see Wes getting a few ideas.</p><p>McKinley won the game in the last quarter, and in the excitement of celebration, Kurt turned and pulled Blaine into a fiery kiss. They kind of forgot where they were for the moment and were suddenly and rather painfully reminded by the icy drenching of a slushie. Blaine pulled back, shaking his head with a hiss. It was already rather cold outside, so being slapped by grape-flavored ice was not a pleasant occurrence.</p><p>Wes and David were immediately on their feet, looking angry and confused. Kurt though, had turned to glare at the boy who had thrown the slushie, vaguely recognizing him from the hockey team. His friend was looking incredibly appalled. “Dude,” the large teen said, looking between the hockey player and Kurt. “You just slushied Hummel, man.”</p><p>“Fags shouldn’t have been getting their gay on,” the hockey player replied with a sneer. </p><p>Kurt wiped some slushie from his face, shivering as ice slid down his collar. </p><p>“But dude,” the boy said, sounding a little frantic. “It’s Hummel, man. You can’t just slushie him!” The hockey player scoffed, pushing his friend’s hand off his arm and stalking off, out of the bleachers. “I’m so sorry,” the boy said, eyes wide. “He’s just…a jerk.” He paused, his voice lowering as his brow furrowed. “That was a really jerk move…dude. Why do we do that?” the question was more aimed at himself as he sat, gazing off at the field absently.</p><p>Kurt exchanged a baffled look with Blaine. “They’re gaining self-awareness,” he whispered, and Blaine choked on a giggle. Wes and David still looked like they were about to throw punches, and Kurt grabbed Wes’s arm, guiding him to sit back down. “It’s fine, guys,” he said. “It’s just a slushie.”</p><p>David stared at him, jaw agape. “Fine? How is that fine?” he asked, his voice going just a little shrill. “You just got a slushie thrown in your faces!”</p><p>Blaine stared at him for a moment, absently brushing ice off his shoulders. “It’s just a slushie,” he said slowly. “It’s not like they hurt us.” He knew it was bullying, but the slushies always seemed like the smallest of things in the long run. After everything he’d been through, after everything Kurt knew he’d been through, slushies were more of an annoyance. They only hurt for a few seconds, and it was more the surprise of cold than it was actual pain. (Unless rock salt was involved, but that was a different story entirely.) Honestly, they were more a danger to their wardrobe than anything else.</p><p>“I mean, it sucks, but it’s…” Kurt shrugged. He looked over at Blaine, noting the purple staining Blaine’s coat and sighed. “We should probably go clean up. Sorry, honey.”</p><p>Blaine shrugged as well. “Meet you in the parking lot?” he asked his two friends as he stood and motioned to Kurt. They restrained themselves from holding hands; one slushie was enough for tonight. They were already, wet, sticky and freezing there was no need to add to it.</p><p>Wes and David watched them go, looking completely confused and still rather upset. “How can they just be okay with that?” David asked, his hands balled into fists. </p><p>Wes sighed a little, rubbing at his face. “To be honest, I think it’s because they know it could be worse.” David turned, giving him a long, narrow look. “Yeah, I know. But Blaine’s already spent months in the hospital because of a bashing. He’s had to repeat a grade.” Which was actually kind of news to David as he’d never heard the full story of Blaine’s transfer and had never thought about his age in regard to his grade. “Kurt, from what I gathered from random bits and pieces, was sexually assaulted. They’ve been through much worse than slushies and yeah…” Wes wasn’t entirely sure how far that assault had extended, and from what little he’d overheard, Kurt was actually on okay terms with the offender now, but still.</p><p>David frowned, raking a hand through his hair, slumping. “It’s not fair,” he grumbled. He let his gaze wander along the crowd of students, a lot of which still celebrating the win of a playoff game. Not too many people had left the stands yet.</p><p>“No, it’s not,” Wes agreed. He was incredibly grateful for Dalton’s rules and standards, but he couldn’t help but wish the rest of the world was the same way.</p><p>Someone came running into the stands, yelling about a fight in the parking lot, and the two Warblers exchanged looks before frantically making their way out of the stands. They made it to the parking lot ahead of most of the crowd, although there were a few members of New Directions in front of them, having come from the locker room. </p><p>They got there in time to see Blaine get taken down by a rough tackle from one of the larger boys, one of about seven members of the hockey team that had surrounded both Blaine and Kurt. But a moment later, the jock was slumping to the ground, curled up in pain, and Blaine was rolling back to his feet. Already there were two other jocks on the ground, and Kurt was taking on two others, smashing his fist into the jaw of one and kicking out at the other. Blaine focused on the other two, slamming his foot into one that was down when the boy made to try and get back up. Wes absently noticed that it was the same boy that had thrown a slushie at his two friends.</p><p>Finn and Puck jumped into the fray, Sam and Mike stepping in to make sure that those that were down stayed that way. Another football player (Dave, for those who knew him) was circling the edges, eyes narrow, watching silently as though to make sure no one else joined in. It was over in minutes, with the offending jocks all writhing on the ground; Kurt and Blaine hadn’t cared much about keeping things above the belt, it seemed. Their friends thought that was pretty fitting, actually.</p><p>Wes and David stepped in, pulling Blaine and Kurt back, allowing the New Directions males to take over. The two were still covered in sticky, purple syrup, apparently having never made it to the restrooms to clean off. Blaine was shaking, a distant look in his eye that spoke of an oncoming flashback, or perhaps an ongoing on. Kurt was panting, his cheek bruising, his knuckles grazed.</p><p>“Breathe,” Wes whispered in Blaine’s ear, leading him back, towards Kurt’s car. He caught sight of Kurt’s parents quickly heading their way and breathed a sigh of relief even as he shook his head to keep them from getting too close. “Kurt? You okay?” he called, glancing over to where David was corralling Kurt.</p><p>“Fine.” Kurt sounded incredibly angry, his voice strained and a bit shaky.</p><p>“Blaine?” Wes asked, turning back to the shorter boy. Blaine flinched, hard, bringing a hand up and Wes winced at the torn and bleeding knuckles. “Just me, Blainers. Need you to look at me, now.”</p><p>Dark, golden eyes met Wes’s and Blaine actively took a deeper breath, recognition passing over his face. “You’re good,” Wes whispered, keeping his hand on Blaine’s shoulder but not getting any closer. “You’re good. You did great. You’re good. You’re safe. Kurt’s fine.”</p><p>Burt was moving in closer, Carole pale and frantic behind him, speaking with Finn and Puck. “You boys okay?” the man asked, eyeing the four, his gaze lingering on Kurt the longest.</p><p>Blaine muttered something that wasn’t English, reaching out for Kurt, breath still a little fast.</p><p>“What language was that?” Wes asked with a frown, recognizing enough to know that it wasn’t Tagalog. </p><p>“Japanese,” Kurt replied, stepping around him to pull Blaine into a fierce kiss. Blaine sighed into it, relaxing just a bit even as he grabbed at Kurt’s coat. After a moment, Kurt pulled away. “Better?” he whispered, meeting Blaine’s eyes before glancing over the shorter boy’s shoulder at his father.</p><p>Blaine nodded, resting his head against Kurt’s shoulder. He didn’t answer verbally as he was pretty sure his English was gone for the night, but that didn’t matter. Wes and David were finally calming down as well, and Burt was there. Nobody would bother them with Burt around; not only was the man incredibly respected, but he was a force to be reckoned with.</p><p>“Right,” Burt sighed, adjusting his baseball cap. “Let’s go home.” Nobody had called the police. Nobody seemed to be bothered by the fight. The boys that had attacked his son and Blaine had conveniently disappeared into the crowd after some well-placed threats from Finn and the others. And, to be honest, they’d slinked off with their tails between their legs, so Burt didn’t think they’d be much of a threat again. </p><p>Really, the rest of the crowd that had formed had kind of been on the side of Kurt and Blaine. The two boys had definitely shown that they were more than capable of defending themselves. On top of that, Burt had overheard a little of what was going down in the school anyway, with Kurt leading what sounded like a bit of a revolution against the bullies. (He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that but wasn’t about to stop his boy from standing up for himself.)</p><p>Burt nodded to the two Warblers, letting them know that he had it well in hand. He’d drive Kurt’s car home, with Carole taking the one that they had driven to the school. Finn would come back in his own, probably with a few other New Directions members in tow. Unless they decided to hang at someone else’s house tonight.</p><p>“Let’s go home,” Burt repeated, slowly leading the two away. Yeah, this wasn’t the best thing to have happened, but it wasn’t the worst either. They’d get through it.</p>
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  <p>~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~</p>
</div><p>Burt had immediately sent the two to shower when they got home. Kurt had then immediately informed his father that they would be showering together because he didn’t trust Blaine to not fall into another flashback so soon. When Burt had frowned at him, Kurt had rolled his eyes and deftly informed his father that yes, they’d had sex before, would have it again, but they weren’t about to have shower sex after the night they’d had and with his parents waiting for them. </p><p>Burt had raised his eyebrows at that, about to go into an argument. And then he realized that he didn’t really have one. He’d lost his own virginity at the age of fifteen to some girl he couldn’t even remember the name of. His son was practically an adult—he’d be seventeen next Friday, on December seventeenth. And it was clear that he and Blaine knew what they were doing. Mostly.</p><p>So, Kurt had led Blaine downstairs and into the shower. They took their time under the hot water, because the both of them were downright freezing by that point. But there was no sex, just as Kurt had said there wouldn’t be. Honestly, why would they do such when Burt and Carole could probably hear?</p><p>Not that it would have mattered much. Blaine was eerily quiet during sex, never uttering a sound outside of pants, gasps and sighs. It meant that Kurt had to work harder to read Blaine’s reactions, but it also meant that those few times where he managed to get a whine or a moan from the boy were all that more arousing. And while Kurt was initially more vocal, he’d picked up the habit of being quiet as well, although he had a tendency to break into whispers. It had made things a lot easier when it came to shared apartments and guests and what have you.</p><p>But for now, the two just showered and dressed in their pajamas. The movers had been by that day, and nearly everything in the house was packed into boxes, with only a bag of essentials for each member (Kurt’s and Blaine’s having been at Dalton with them, because they’d been boarding). The movers would be back the next day to load everything into the truck and move it all to the new house. </p><p>They curled up on the couch, where Carole and Burt were waiting with ice and bandages. Kurt’s cheekbone was growing a lovely shade of purple, and Blaine’s shoulder and back were exploding into a myriad of colors from the tackle he’d taken. Both their knuckles were torn and bruised, and the shower had caused them to start bleeding again. And Blaine was holding his left arm gingerly, which worried Carole to some degree.</p><p>“Blaine, darling,” she murmured as she carefully bandaged his hand. They were all stepping a little carefully around the smaller teen, as his eyes hadn’t fully cleared yet. Kurt was keeping a hold of him, though, and that seemed enough to keep him in the here-and-now. “I’m worried about your hand. You once said that your arm was more wire and pins than bone and flesh. Can you tell me just what you meant?” Because if he’d had reconstructive surgery, then the fight may have damaged something important. Already it looked as though he may have sprained his wrist, with the way it was swelling and turning black and blue.</p><p>Blaine blinked at her, licked his lips, and then turned to look at Kurt. His English wasn’t back yet. His therapist had once tried to come up with an explanation and the one that fit the best was that everyone who had ever hurt Blaine—his parents, his bullies, his attackers, even Kurt at times—had all spoken English. As such, his subconscious mind was trying to remove himself from a harmful situation by ‘forgetting’ the language and creating a barrier. Blaine could, usually, still understand what was being spoken to him, he just couldn’t consciously figure out how to answer. (He’d had to explain that he didn’t usually think in English, and it was mostly Tagalog inside his brain, with a smattering of other languages thrown in for good measure.) It was, in his opinion, incredibly frustrating and didn’t help in the least and he hated his subconscious for it.</p><p>Kurt had explained as much to his family the last time Blaine had lost his English after a night of bad nightmares. To some degree, at least, since he couldn’t talk about a therapist that Blaine had never had in this lifetime. What he couldn’t explain to his family was how he always knew what Blaine was saying no matter the language he spoke. Thank you Fates for making that an interesting situation. To his credit, Blaine tried to stick with French of Spanish if he needed Kurt to translate, since the countertenor actually knew those languages.</p><p>“He broke fifteen?” Kurt glanced at Blaine, who shook his head and muttered something, “Oh. Seventeen bones in his hand. There’s a lot of pins and wire holding things together. Two pins in his wrist. It’s a miracle he’s managed to get full movement from it at all, really.” A miracle and ongoing physical therapy that took the form of piano, guitar and violin practice. (Blaine refused to play the violin anywhere someone could hear. Even Kurt had only started hearing him play when they’d moved in together, and Blaine always shut himself away when he did so, not that Kurt understood why. He was quite good at the instrument, after all, maybe not as good as he was on the piano, but still worth listening to.)</p><p>Carole stared at the two of them, and then looked over at Burt, who was carefully bandaging Kurt’s knuckles. “Geez,” Burt grunted. “That must be a pain to get through airport security.” Maybe it was a little crass, but Burt felt a little humor wouldn’t go badly here.</p><p>Blaine snorted, grumbling under his breath and Kurt grimaced, rolling his eyes. “No, that would be the steel rod in his thigh,” he commented. On the bright side, Blaine’s injuries had been mostly healed when he’d woken up from his coma; he’d heard that a broken femur was one of the worst pains you could have. And he’d broken his in three places. He was happy enough to have not had to deal too much with that, although the months of physical therapy had sucked.</p><p>Carole dropped the bandages into her lap, sitting back on her heels so she could take a deep, steadying breath. She looked like she was about to cry, unable to separate herself from the situation like she could when working at the hospital, because these were her boys that were hurting. “I wish…”</p><p>“I know,” Kurt murmured, sighing. Burt patted his knee, sitting back once the bandaging was finished. Blaine shrugged a bit, turning into Kurt’s embrace tiredly. </p><p>“Okay,” Burt said, heaving himself to his feet. “Let’s get some sleep. I know it’s still a bit early, but we have a long day tomorrow and you boys have had a bit of a night.”</p><p>“Understatement,” Kurt grumbled, prodding Blaine to his feet. “Where’s Finn?” he asked, yawning a little as they headed for the basement stairs. </p><p>“He and the others wanted to celebrate their win a bit and give the two of you some space,” Carole answered. “Do either of you want to eat anything?” she asked before they could make it to the basement.</p><p>“No, thanks though,” Kurt said with a smile. “You guys are the best, you know that?” he said softly, and Blaine gave a small smile at his side. Burt sighed and then stepped forward, pulling the two boys into a gruff hug, holding them close. Carole gently kissed them both on their foreheads and the two adults sent them down to their bed.</p><p>Sleep wasn’t about to come easily, and Kurt wasn’t about to let himself fall into the hope that it would. He wasn’t entirely sure Blaine was even fully with him yet, and he knew what Blaine needed to ground him and get him out of his head. To be honest, Kurt really needed it too. So, he gently pushed Blaine back onto the bed and crawled on top on him, straddling his hips. “I need you to focus on me, baby,” he whispered, meeting hazy golden eyes. “Only on me, and what I’m doing. Okay? Can you do that?” he asked, licking his lips.</p><p>Blaine’s eyes focused and darkened, his pupils dilating with want as he nodded. And then Kurt went about working the tension out of the younger boy’s body with his mouth and fingers, his own body relaxing from the fight as he went. And if Blaine was distressingly submissive during his ministrations it wasn’t like it was the first time (and that was a topic that Kurt had had to revisit with their therapist a few times; he didn’t like it when Blaine went so deeply into that headspace, even if the therapist had commented that it was probably good for Blaine on occasion, to let go of his usual tight control). By the time they were finished, they were both much more relaxed and ready for sleep. After cleaning up, Kurt curled up behind Blaine, spooning against his back and kissing his shoulder softly. Blaine whispered his love and the two drifted off, comfortable and warm.</p><p>By the time Finn got home, both Kurt and Blaine were sound asleep, curled around each other in the bed. He tip-toed to his side of the room after checking to make sure they were okay and sleeping peacefully. The fight had been a bit intense, and Finn had been rather impressed by how Kurt and Blaine had held their own for so long against seven larger, stronger opponents. </p><p>He’d asked Kurt how he’d been able to take on four football players earlier that week—and geez, had it only just been Monday that that had happened? Kurt had explained that after Blaine had recovered from his bashing, he’d taken up boxing as a form of anger management and coping. And his boxing instructor had taught him some more self-defense. In turn, as soon as he and Blaine had started hanging out and then dating, Blaine had started teaching Kurt those same moves. </p><p>Finn was incredibly grateful that the two knew them at all. The jocks that had attacked them hadn’t been seriously injured, just scratches and bruises and seriously damaged pride (those lower shots had been intentionally wicked; they’d be limping for days). He was pretty sure they wouldn’t try again, and none of the other jocks were going to try either. He, Puck and Dave (which had been a bit surprising, honestly) had given some pretty good threats to the entirety of the group and the onlookers, and it may have involved a bit of blackmail on the part of some. </p><p>Kurt would be returning to McKinley on Monday, and Finn was determined that his little brother (never mind that he was three months older than Finn) would be safe there. Kurt could hold his own, as he’d made doubly clear this week, but he shouldn’t have to resort to violence to do so. </p><p>Finn quietly got ready for bed, taking extra care to not make any sound. He silently crept forward and pulled the comforter higher up over Blaine and Kurt’s shoulders, noticing that the two looked a little chilly, and then slid into his own bed. Yeah, his little brother (brothers, really, because Blaine was as much family as Kurt was at this point) would be safe. He’d make sure of it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I am aware that the Christmas episode comes before the one referenced in these last few chapters, but that didn't make sense at all in the real world, so I flipped them around. Sorry if that bothers you at all.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Guys, just for your information, I am really into interior design and fashion. I've been told that I can sometimes focus a little too much on those aspects when writing, but to be fair, it's what I like to read. (I also adore historic architecture and am a little in love with Victorian houses, which shows...) Sorry if you're not interested in that, but this is a heavy interior design chapter...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>First thing that morning, Carole had sent the boys out to get Blaine’s wrist x-rayed. Just to be sure that it was just a sprain and not any more damage. So, the three teens piled into Kurt’s Navigator and took off for the doctor. Carole had called ahead, just so they wouldn’t be wasting their time. But, as the parents had told them, they had until noon to hang out after the appointment, and then they’d be expected at the new house to start unpacking. </p><p>Blaine’s wrist was simply sprained, so the doctor made sure to wrap it and told him to take it easy for a while. He also checked over the rest of the grazes and bruises that the two boys had garnered during the fight, no extra charge, just as a favor to Carole, who was rather well liked at the hospital. And then, the three trooped off to the Lima Bean for some much-needed coffee.</p><p>For all that they shouldn’t have, Kurt and Blaine had slept amazingly well that night and were in rather high spirits. Both were eager to see the new house since they hadn’t been in it since before the renovations. Finn had just shrugged off their questions, smiling at them. He hadn’t much cared about what had been happening at the house, so hadn’t paid any attention when he had been there. </p><p>Blaine and Finn discussed the upcoming sports season of whatever-it-was, Kurt wasn’t paying any attention and was focused solely on his phone. Or he was up until Sam dropped into the seat next to him at the table, flinging his arm around Kurt’s shoulder with a boyish grin. “And how are the Hudmel-Andersons today?” he asked.</p><p>Kurt blinked at him, even as Blaine choked on his drink and Finn looked confused. “That makes us sound like all three of us are married to each other,” Kurt pointed out. Finn’s face scrunched, and Blaine couldn’t help but laugh, still coughing on his coffee. </p><p>Sam stared at him and then gave a nod. “So, it does,” he said. “But still, how are you guys? That fight was kinda rad, man. Everybody okay?”</p><p>“Just bruises and a sprained wrist,” Blaine said, finally able to talk without coughing. “Also, when I marry Kurt, I’m totally dropping the Anderson.”</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes. “No, you’re not,” he commented softly, although he was still smiling. They’d had this discussion before; Blaine was very much for not being a part of the Anderson family in name anymore, but Kurt had talked him into keeping it for professional reasons. </p><p>Nobody commented on how the two boys were already planning on getting married. It was kind of a known deal by now that these two were Relationship Goals. And to think, everyone else thought they’d only been dating since the end of September.</p><p>By the time it was almost noon, they’d been joined by Quinn, Mercedes, Puck and Artie. And the staff behind the counter kept giving the group amused looks every time someone got up to get another coffee or pastry. Honestly, they were so full of caffeine by this point that it was a miracle that the entire group wasn’t vibrating out of control. They were being a little loud, though no one had bothered to complain. </p><p>Finally, the group got up, each having to go on with their days. They made plans to meet back up for an early dinner tomorrow, before Blaine had to get back to Dalton. Finn ran into Dominoes to pick up their pizza order (Kurt having decided to be lax on his dad’s diet for the day, due to the stress of last night, the stress of moving, and the amount of work they’d be putting in that afternoon) and then they made it to the house.</p><p>It had started snowing by the time they pulled into the long driveway, and it made the yellow Victorian look absolutely picturesque. Finn didn’t seem to notice, as he ran inside with the pizzas, but Kurt and Blaine took their time, holding hands as they made their way up the walk. </p><p>The renovations to the house had been rather simple. Just new paint and flooring for most of the rooms. The electrical, plumbing and even the roof had all been replaced about three years ago, so the family hadn’t worried about those. And Carole and Kurt had been absolutely against painting any of the woodwork in the house, only having it refinished so the oak gleamed. So, entering the house, they took in the beautiful oak staircase, the pretty cream painted walls of the main hall and the lovely wood floors that had been hidden under the hideous floral print carpet. In fact, almost all the rooms had wood floors under the carpet, so only the den and guest bedroom had had carpeting put in (as the floors had been too damaged to save on a limited budget). </p><p>At the end of the main hall was the ground floor’s half-bath and the door leading to the back porch. To the right of the front door was the entrance to the dining room, painted a lovely dark red with white accents and wainscoting. There were two built in corner cabinets in the corners by the three narrow front windows, which had stained-glass transom windows above them. There was a fireplace with a carved mantle at the back of the room, next to the door that opened into the pantry that led to the kitchen behind it. </p><p>Carole’s mother’s dining table (that had been kept in storage with a lot of other furniture pieces) was already placed in the room, although the twelve chairs that went with it were somewhere else in the house. (The entire place was filled with furniture and boxes, everything a bit of a mess, but the boys were taking their time with walking through the space, just to get a feel of it.) </p><p>The pantry (butler’s pantry, Blaine informed him—his high-society family had to be good for something, right?) was filled with pretty oak cabinets and a small copper sink. Kurt wasn’t entirely sure what they’d be using it for, but it seemed a shame not to keep it in the house, so he and Carole had left it alone. It opened into the kitchen, which had been painted a bright blue, while the cabinets had all been painted a bright white. The floor had been tiled, the old linoleum having been disposed of, and dark slate tiles taking their places. Carole had opted for quartz countertops, a dark black speckled through with white streaks and glittering specks. They looked almost like a galaxy. The kitchen itself was large, with a bay window looking out to the side yard, and the Hummel’s six-seat table already sitting in it. </p><p>There was a large island between the main counter and the bay window, with the sink situated in it. The fridge was to the left, against the wall, with the oven and stove combo to the right. The dishwasher was also in the island, next to the sink. It was a space meant to be used efficiently and comfortably, and Kurt could see himself spending a lot of time in this room.</p><p>The mudroom slash laundry room was located right at the back of the kitchen, next to the door to the main hall. They’d kept the colors of the kitchen the same in this room and carried the slate tile through as well. The stairs to the basement were back here as well, and a door to the back yard. The space wasn’t large, but it was sunny, as the entire back wall was practically all windows. </p><p>Kurt led Blaine through the door into the hall again, now at the back of the house and through the door on the left side, just under the staircase. It was to the den, a decent sized room with a big window and a fireplace against the back wall. The family had decided this would be the TV room, with the larger family room being a more formal space. The carpet in here was a dark gray the walls painted a light gray, and the fireplace mantle having been kept its original oak. They’d put the TV over the mantle and arrange the couches and chairs to face it. It would be a cozy room, and Kurt was pleased with how he could see it turning out.</p><p>The den had a large, double pocket door that opened into the front living room, the corner of it being the ground floor of the tower at the front of the house. This room was painted a light yellow, the floors the original wood, and with a large fireplace on the outside wall of the room. There were large bookcases built in on either side of the fireplace, and the tower itself was mostly windows, with stained glass panels gracing the top of every one (just like the dining room). A large, round window seat curved around the entirety of the wall, beneath the windows. They were already planning to put a big Christmas tree in that space. </p><p>Moving upstairs, the bedrooms were done in generic colors, although Finn’s had been painted a dark green at his request. The master was done in blues and grays, and the guest bedroom had been kept a light cream, much like the hallways. The last bedroom on that floor, the small one at the front left, had been turned into an office for Burt, since he had revealed that he was planning on running for Senate. Kurt, having known this ahead of time, had gotten him in contact with Mr. Steven Duval, Nick’s father, who was known for being good at campaigning for these things.</p><p>Now, it was time to see his own room, which had needed the most work out of all of the spaces since it had been the most unfinished. There was no door to the attic, just the stairs at the back of the second-floor hall, so Kurt had asked for a partition wall to be built halfway into the room. It cut the space in half, but didn’t go from wall to wall, leaving openings on either side. To the immediate left of the stairs upon entering the attic, was the small bathroom, which had been walled in. It was only large enough for the sink/vanity combo, toilet and a shower, but Kurt wasn’t bothered. The sloping ceilings meant that the short wall on the outside wall had a nice deep cabinet for storage. </p><p>The sloping ceilings had proven to be a challenge overall, actually, until Kurt had decided to have them built into half-height closets, running the length of either side of the space. On the stair-side of the partition wall, he’d had shelves built into the right side, and drawers on the left. The other side of the partition, the balcony side, he’d had only one set of shelves and the rest of the closet space built for hanging clothes. There were two dormer windows on the stair side, in which he planned to place his sewing machine in one, and his mannequins in the other, leaving the majority of the floorspace empty. His father had promised him the use of an old futon, which he planned to put against the partition wall, and his TV was going to be hung on the wall behind the stairs. (It was a little tricky to get to that space, but they’d manage.) The right side of the stairs held his desk and computer equipment.</p><p>The other side of the wall was going to be his main bedroom. Burt had upgraded his bed to that of a queen size, giving Finn a queen as well and putting Kurt’s old full-sized bed in the guest room. (Finn’s twin was placed in the office, as a daybed, just in case they needed more sleeping space.) His mother’s dresser and vanity were already in the space, but not exactly where he wanted them (they’d shift everything later), and the space was filled with his boxes of stuff. </p><p>The entire room had been painted a bright white aside from the partition wall, which had two shades of light gray, one on each side, since there was limited natural light coming into the space, only through the two dormer windows and the French doors to the small balcony. The floors had been left as their original wood, sanded down and stained a dark color. It was a comfortable space, and Blaine was already curled up on the bed, up against the partition wall and facing the balcony. </p><p>“I’m down a hand,” Blaine muttered, frowning a bit as he held up his wrapped wrist. “I don’t know how much help I’m going to be,” he admitted. He looked rather more upset about that than Kurt thought he needed to, but Blaine had a bit of a thing about always being useful. </p><p>Kurt smiled at him, flopping down on the bed as well. And wow, his dad had gotten him a comfortable mattress. “Just you being here is enough, baby,” he whispered, leaning forward to press his lips to Blaine’s. Blaine gave a little sigh, leaning into the kiss and readily opening his mouth to Kurt’s tongue. Kurt caressed Blaine’s mouth and then pulled back, giving one last chaste peck.  “Now, let’s go get some lunch and see where the parental units want us to start.”</p><p>It turned out that Carole really wanted help putting the kitchen together first. Finn was sent to get his bedroom in order, while Burt was asked to work on both the Master bedroom and the office. But Carole had asked the two boys for help on the kitchen, so that’s where they were. </p><p>Blaine, as he had pointed out, wasn’t much help with only one hand. So, he sat on the counter and gave advice. After a while, he started singing to the two that were busy unpacking boxes, random happy songs that made them smile. It didn’t really take too long to get the kitchen unpacked and the dishes, cutlery and cooking utensils put away, and Carole commented that she’d get the food and other items taken care of. As it turned out, the butler’s pantry was going to be used as an actual pantry, since the original pantry had been turned into the laundry room. </p><p>Kurt and Blaine wandered back up to the attic at that point and started to work on rearranging the space to Kurt’s specifications. The futon was brought up by Finn and Burt once it was located among the mess, and Burt took some time to get the TV mounted to the wall above the stairs. And then the real unpacking began. Clothes were hung, Blaine made the bed (which was something he could handle one-handed, apparently, kudos to him) and Kurt’s sewing stuff was stashed onto shelves and in drawers (although not really organized yet). The dresser and vanity were placed on either side of the balcony doors and the two end tables (which had been in the guest room for some reason) were put on either side of the bed. </p><p>Once a lot of the room had been put away (not all of it, there was still a lot of small stuff to figure out, as well as posters and pictures and such) they wandered downstairs to help get the rest of the furniture put in place. Boxes were easy enough to deal with over time, so the family decided that the furniture really needed to be dealt with first. Chairs were paired with tables, couch sets put in the den and living rooms. Armchairs in the living room and office. Beds in the right rooms. Coffee tables where needed. An antique buffet that had been in Carole’s storage put in the dining room. Finn’s grandmother’s wooden rocking chair on his balcony. And Elizabeth’s baby grand piano, an antique that had been in the family for at least seventy years (although it was quite a bit older than that) was placed in the living room, in the corner opposite that of the tower. (Finn was totally planning on building a large gaming station for his tower corner of the bedroom. He was super excited about it, too.)</p><p>Bookcases were placed where they were needed. Desks were put in Finn’s room and the office, as well as a smaller one in the den. Chairs were moved, moved again, and finally placed in the appropriate spots. Console tables, lamps, chests…everything was where Kurt, Carole, Burt and Finn decided they would best go. Blaine helped where he could, but mostly was there to make sure that things ended up straight and lined up correctly. </p><p>By the time they were done with the furniture it was almost midnight and everyone was completely exhausted. They’d ordered take-out Chinese for dinner at about eight and had readily scarfed it down in order to get back to work. But now, the last thing anyone wanted to do was touch any of the boxes that were scattered throughout the house. </p><p>They all traipsed up to their beds, speeding through bedtime routines and dropping eagerly onto comfortable mattresses. And if Kurt and Blaine took advantage of the fact that they had the bedroom to themselves, well, they were quiet about it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By the time Blaine made it back to Dalton Sunday evening, he was completely exhausted. It was good, though, the exhaustion of a hard-weekend’s work, as opposed to his usual exhaustion of poor sleep. His wrist was still wrapped, and his back was an aching mess of bruises but the Hudmel house was mostly unpacked and just needed some more work with hanging pictures and finalizing placements of decorative pieces. The essentials were in, and he’d helped the best he could.</p><p>Dinner had been good, too, as half of New Directions had shown up to help put movies and books and stuff where they belonged and then Carole and Burt had treated them all to dinner (as opposed to the original plan of going to Breadstix). Carole had made an amazing pasta dish that Blaine had asked for the recipe of, and then they’d all had ice-cream for dessert.</p><p>His weekend had been grand, despite the fight on Friday.</p><p>He also knew that moving sucked and was a whole lot more work than it should ever have to be. He wasn’t looking forward to doing it again. Hopefully, it wouldn’t happen until he moved out for college in about two years. </p><p>Dalton was as idyllic as always, although he was met with Wes and David, who looked concerned and still a bit upset about what had happened at the game. They were, however, pleased by Blaine’s overall appearance. “No fancy outfits this time?” David teased, throwing a gentle arm around Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine winced, just a bit, and David adjusted his hold, having guessed about the bruising. “I’ve gotten used to you looking like hot stuff when you get back from Kurt’s.”</p><p>Blaine, who was dressed just in jeans and a sweatshirt, rolled his eyes. “We spent all weekend unpacking their new house. And Kurt was here all last week. He hasn’t had time to make anything else for a while.”</p><p>“And you’re not hurt?” Wes asked, frowning just a little. </p><p>“What,” Nick jested, coming forward and tugging Jeff along with him. “From unpacking? Did you fall down some stairs, Blainey-boy?”</p><p>Blaine rolled his eyes, smiling. “The worst is a sprained wrist,” he said in reply to Wes’s question. “And my back is a little colorful, but I’m fine. Kurt’s fine. I promise.”</p><p>Wes grumbled. “And the guys that jumped you two?” he asked, which made Nick’s eyebrows rise as he exchanged looks with Jeff. David scowled, his grip on Blaine’s shoulders tightening just a little, which caused Blaine to hiss. David let go, backing up a bit, his eyes narrowing. </p><p>“They’ll be sore for a while but no lasting damage,” Blaine said, taking a step back. “That was kind of the point, to take them down without causing lasting damage.” He rotated his shoulders, grimacing a little. “I’m fine. Really. No panic attacks. No flashbacks. It was a good weekend.”</p><p>“I feel like we’re missing something really important here,” Jeff muttered, looking between the three others, griping Nick’s hand just a little bit harder. None of the three paid them any mind.</p><p>David huffed. “I don’t get how you could just let it go like that, though,” he griped, clearly still upset over the whole ordeal.</p><p>Blaine shrugged lightly. “Sex helps,” he said with a joking grin. “And good food. And family. Well, Kurt’s family at least.”</p><p>Nick, although not entirely sure what was going on, still managed to hang onto the words that were important to him. “Wait, wait, wait. Hold on a minute, Blanderson,” he said, holding up a single finger. “Kurt’s parents are okay with the two of you having sex? In their house?”</p><p>Blaine blinked at him. “Well…I think it’s more that we’re completely honest with them while not making it obvious? We respect ourselves, each other and the others in the house,” he said, trying to wrap his head around that. He hadn’t realized, to be honest. He’d kind of been going about life as though he and Kurt were still married when they were together, and Kurt was the same way. They treated each other the same as they had for over a year now and were comfortable doing so. Burt and Carole had just gone along with it completely, and neither had spoken against it when Kurt had informed them that they did, in fact, have a healthy sex life, thank you. </p><p>Which was weird.</p><p>They were teenagers, after all. Even if Kurt and he forgot about that sometimes. But then…things were seeming a bit easier this time around. Maybe, in some strange way, some of the familiarity and such that Burt and Carole had had towards them had come back in time too. Although that didn’t really explain Finn. Blaine wouldn’t complain though.</p><p>He shrugged again, wincing a little as it pulled on bruises that he really hadn’t felt all weekend. “I’m not going to question it,” he said, much to the amusement of the other boys. </p><p>Wes rolled his eyes. “Right. I wanna see those bruises on your back,” he said, pointing at Blaine. </p><p>“You want me to just strip here in the common room?” Blaine asked with a raised eyebrow, not looking all that impressed. They’d garnered a bit of an audience with the present Stanton boys and Blaine was already shifting a little, uncomfortable with the attention. It was one thing to own a stage, it was another entirely to be stared at for no reason.</p><p>“Strip,” Wes commanded, smirking just a little.</p><p>“Yeah, no,” Blaine replied, frowning. </p><p>David sighed, rolling his eyes. “Blaine. Please? I don’t think either of us are going to feel better until we see the damage.”</p><p>Blaine paused for a long moment and then heaved a sigh, reaching down and pulling his sweatshirt off in a single move. Both Wes and David hissed at the sight of the bruising, and Nick and Jeff didn’t look much better. He knew that the entire left side of his back was a dark blue and purple with some red scrapes thrown in for variation. “Just bruising, see?” he said softly, flinching a bit as Wes ran a hand down the worst of the discoloration, prodding just a bit.</p><p>“And a sprained wrist,” Wes grumbled, motioning to Blaine’s still wrapped wrist. </p><p>“Yeah,” Blaine muttered. “But it could have been so much worse,” he replied, his voice still soft. “It <em>has</em> been worse. Guys, this is nothing. I’m fine.” He pulled his sweater back on, shifting a little in his spot. “Can I go to my room now, or are you going to demand I stay around just so you know I’m not going to pass out on you or something.”</p><p>Wes and David exchanged long looks and then sighed. “Fine,” Wes muttered. “But I know that you’re not completely okay. If you have trouble sleeping come to our room, okay? I really don’t mind cuddling.”</p><p>Blaine smiled, eyes softening. He really did have some amazing friends. Giving a nod and a short wave, he headed for the stairs. And if he heard Nick and Jeff demanding answers behind him, then he wouldn’t begrudge the other two their storytelling.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
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</div>Kurt’s head was hurting a bit as he made his way down the hall. Not to mention the dark bruise on his cheek that he didn’t even bother trying to hide, thank you fair skin. No, this had nothing to do with his bruises or scraped knuckles.<p>This was a sickness. And Kurt Hummel hated getting sick.</p><p>But he couldn’t deny that his head was stuffy and heavy and hurting, and his throat had a tickle and his eyes kept watering. And he felt like death. Just a little. Which sucked.<br/>
Honestly, all he really wanted was to curl up in bed with Blaine and watch a movie and maybe sleep for a week. But Blaine was back at Dalton and Kurt was at McKinley suffering through the looks he was getting in the hallway and the whispers of people behind his back.</p><p>Granted, the jocks were steering clear, there were no signs of any slushies, and most people looked impressed instead of their usual disgust. It was a change, and a good one, but Kurt was a little too miserable to care. </p><p>“Kurt?” Tina asked, sounding a little timid as she came up to him at his locker. “Are you okay?”</p><p>Kurt sighed, refraining from leaning his head on the wall. “I think I’m getting sick,” he replied honestly. He just didn’t have the energy for his usual sarcasm and snark. “But yeah, other than that, I’m fine.”</p><p>Tina nodded, threading her arm through his and leading him to the choir room. Was it third hour already? Kurt honestly couldn’t remember his first two classes. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well,” Tina said. “What do you think Mr. Schue is going to assign in Glee today?”</p><p>“Something Christmas based,” Kurt replied. On any other day, he’d probably try to recall exactly what had happened during his last lifetime. But then, last time he’d been at Dalton during this time of year, and the happenings of New Directions had been kind of peripheral to him. And besides, it was Christmas, so that was probably a good guess. There was only a week and a half left of school before they took a break for the holiday.</p><p>Glee was, indeed, Christmas based. They were all assigned to sing their favorite holiday song by Friday and informed that they would be going caroling. Kurt promptly told the group that said activity wouldn’t really work in their favor if they thought they could go caroling through the school. Maybe it would be better to drive to a different town and carol the traditional way. Also, it was his birthday Friday, so he would probably be busy.</p><p>That started a discussion about caroling on Saturday instead, and not through the school at all, which Kurt was all for. He vaguely remembered something about a shoe being thrown at someone? Whatever. </p><p>And then Glee ended, and Kurt had to try and remember what class he was supposed to go to next. Good thing he’d lived this all before or he was bound to fail his assignments this week. </p><p>Ugh. He just had to make it through the rest of the day and then maybe Burt would let him stay home tomorrow if he wasn’t feeling any better. </p><p>What a way to spend the week of his birthday.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter 21</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurt was lucky that he didn’t have to go through this again, Blaine thought to himself. Kurt had returned to McKinley yesterday, and today, Tuesday the fourteenth, was the day that Dalton opened its doors to other private schools in the area. It was a sort of ‘show off’ day, where the schools bragged about their accomplishments and let the students mingle. Most of the boys were ecstatic that they got to hang out with girls for an entire school day.</p><p>Blaine hated it. He always felt like he had to put on a show, especially as the main lead for the Warblers. And he was so tired of acting all the time and he really didn’t do well in social situations. And this thing lasted all day. And the headmaster was terribly fond of Blaine for whatever reason, so Blaine felt even more compelled to put on a happy face and just be a model student.</p><p>He was sticking close to the other Warblers, and he had a feeling that Wes had asked Nick to keep an eye on him, because the other boy was never all that far away. Blaine didn’t mind so much, as he had a convenient person to duck behind if the socializing got too much for a moment. And the Warblers had already given their performance earlier, which had had Blaine leading and he couldn’t even complain about it due to his deal. </p><p>“Oh shoot,” Nick whispered suddenly, catching sight of something. “It’s Veronica.”</p><p>Blaine nearly groaned. Everyone knew about Veronica Mayors. She attended a Catholic school but was known for going through boys like most girls go through shoes. And she wasn’t kind about it, either. Most of the Warblers had stories about her, although Blaine had managed to stay completely off her radar since attending Dalton. Both times. Which was good, because Veronica was also known for being incredibly homophobic and racist on top of being a complete bitch in general. </p><p>The last time around, he’d been with Kurt, which had kept her away from him by default. Kurt was obvious in his sexuality even when in uniform.</p><p>Veronica, for her part, looked to be searching for someone. She wasn’t in uniform, as their school had been lax on that for the day, and her outfit was eye catching in a way that wasn’t a good thing. Kurt would have been appalled; Blaine was kind of appalled. Blaine had a feeling he knew who it was she was looking for too. Being the Warbler’s front man was certainly not a good thing in this moment. He knew that Wes and David were moving in to back him with Nick, but Veronica had spotted him now, and he decided it was time to put on a front that Kurt would be proud of. </p><p>“And there you are!” Veronica purred, sauntering forward with a look that Blaine was sure she thought was sultry but was really very off putting. “Where have you been hiding all this time?” And she even had the gall to reach out and run her fingers down his arm. </p><p>Blaine raised an eyebrow, taking a half step back. “I’m sorry? Do I know you?” He put just enough condescension in his voice that Wes and David exchanged looks and Nick had to try not to laugh.</p><p>Veronica tittered, flipping her overly bleached hair over her shoulder. “Not yet, but I’m sure we could change that fact.” She stroked his arm again, and then moved her hand to his chest, leaning forward to whisper. “Why don’t we leave this…mixed company,” she said with a bit of a sneer, obviously directed towards his friends. “And we can go…get acquainted.”</p><p>“Yeah, no thanks,” Blaine said simply, stepping back and knocking her hand away, and he had to control himself, so he didn’t smile at her completely shocked look. “I’m not interested.”</p><p>Veronica’s eyebrows rose and she stepped closer, reaching out again. “Oh honey, you’re definitely interested. Everyone always is.”</p><p>“No,” Blaine shook his head, catching her hand between thumb and forefinger and forcing it back with a disgusted look, as though it was a bug he wasn’t particularly fond of. “Especially after the stories I’ve heard of you.”</p><p>She scoffed. “Stories? From who? Your posse of—”</p><p>He cut her off before she could say anything degrading about Wes and David, who she had started shooting glares at the moment they had come up behind him. He knew enough about her to know that she would never have pursued those two, as they were definitely ‘not good enough’ for her white supremist mind. “It’s ‘whom’, darling,” Blaine said, with a closed mouth smile that crinkled his nose. “Besides, you’re definitely not my type.” He placed his uninjured hand on his hip, tilting his head a little. “In fact, I’d say our types are quite similar. Except that I probably have a better chance than you do.”</p><p>Her face paled and then turned red as she obviously understood his phrasing. “I didn’t know that an esteemed school such as this would let people like you in,” she sneered.</p><p>“People like me?” Blaine asked, batting his eyes and putting on an exaggeratedly confused face. “Short? Curly haired? Singers? Asian? I’m sorry, can you clarify?”</p><p>She snarled, taking a step back even as Blaine took a step forward. “Fags like you shouldn’t be allowed—”</p><p>“Oh,” Blaine said, cutting her off again. “<em>That’s</em> what you meant. Yeah, sorry to disappoint, sweetheart, but I’m here and I’m not planning on going anywhere.” He chuckled lowly. “<em>You</em>, however, really aren’t welcome within the walls of this esteemed establishment with that appallingly close-minded attitude.”</p><p>She stomped her foot, obviously not used to being talked to in such a way. “Excuse me! Do you know who I am?! My daddy—”</p><p>“Is a good friend of the headmaster, yes,” Blaine finished, waving a hand as though he didn’t care. “Our headmaster who has stated time and again that this academy is known for its non-bullying and all-inclusive rules. Somehow, I don’t think Daddy’s gonna be on your side this time, princess.”</p><p>She sniffed, tossing her hair again. “Well fine! I’ll find a real man who doesn’t go searching for some fag to spread his legs for him—”</p><p>“Oh honey, <em>no</em>,” Blaine purred. “<em>I’m</em> the one spreading my legs for <em>him</em>!” He smiled, slow and sultry and ever so pleased. “And it’s so good. But you wouldn’t know, would you?” he asked, allowing himself to fall into an exaggeratedly campy pose as he gestured at her. “I won’t go into details of my love life, because you’re likely to go completely over the edge from jealousy. Not that you’re far from that, to be honest. I mean, it <em>must</em> be difficult knowing that you’re never going to find someone that actually wants to be with you and isn’t just a disappointed gold digger, but <em>darling</em>, I’m sure you’ll get over it <em>eventually</em>.”</p><p>“How dare you!” Veronica spat, taking another step back even as her face contorted in fury. “I’ll have you know—”</p><p>“I don’t really care, sweetheart,” Blaine said blandly, blinking his big gold eyes innocently. “I would, however, like for you to leave now.” He sneered lightly, giving her a once over. “Like, clearly, you need all the help you can get, but I’m not really offering my services. Especially not to someone who can’t figure out not to pair chartreuse with neon blue. Not to mention those godawful knockoff Jimmy Choo’s. I mean, really, honey. You could at least <em>look</em> like you’re trying.” Hit them where it hurts; he’d learned the best from Kurt.</p><p>Veronica’s face had gone completely pallid and her jaw had dropped. She floundered for a moment and then gave a wordless shriek, flailing a little as she spun on her heel and stalked off. Blaine watched her for a beat and then turned, meeting the wide eyes of his friends and a group of boys (and some incredibly amused girls) that had apparently appeared behind him. He gave a wobbly, unsure smile and a little shrug. </p><p>“That,” Wes stated solemnly, “Was the greatest thing I think I’ve ever seen.”</p><p>There were a few cheers and Jeff lowered his phone. “I totally just sent that to your boy, Blainers,” he said with a grin. “Hope you don’t mind.” Blaine shrugged again, allowing David to pull him into a friendly hug and fist-bumping another one of the Warblers.</p><p>“You did just out yourself as a total bottom, though,” Nick grinned, looking incredibly amused.</p><p>Blaine blinked at him, a sardonic smile on his face. “I mean, was it ever really a secret?” he asked back. And the rest of the boys just laughed.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
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</div><p>“Forget a birthday present, that video Jeff sent me was a great gift, baby,” Kurt grinned as he relaxed on his bed, phone to his ear. He was curled up under two blankets and wearing Blaine’s Dalton sweatshirt (which he may have stolen from Blaine’s dorm room, so sue him). He was still a bit cold though and knew that he was still running a bit of a fever. Thank goodness his parents had let him stay home today.</p><p>He’d spent pretty much all day sleeping, though, and he still felt exhausted. Whatever had hit him, had hit him hard. And the house was still a bit of a mess with half unpacked boxes and piles of unsorted stuff lying around, so Kurt was feeling just a little bit guilty on top of being sick.</p><p>But that video! Kurt loved seeing Blaine so smooth and confident. He’d missed it a little, although he loved all of Blaine and every side the boy had and was incredibly happy that Blaine didn’t feel the need to put on an act all the time anymore. But there was something about the way he could verbally tear a person to shreds that just made Kurt giddy. </p><p>“Hey, speaking of birthday presents,” Blaine said over the phone, his voice as warm and smooth as honey. Man, Kurt missed him. That week at Dalton had been heaven; he’d forgotten just how hard it was to be separated from his husband-boyfriend. “Do you mind if I combine your birthday and Christmas presents this year?” he asked. “I usually wouldn’t but your gift isn’t going to be here until right before Christmas so…”</p><p>Which meant that Blaine had probably spent a pretty penny on it too. It was a good thing that he still had access to his parents’ credit card. They didn’t care much what he did with it so long as he didn’t go completely nuts and he didn’t bother them. </p><p>“You don’t have to get me anything, sweetheart,” Kurt said with a small, fond smile. He said it every year, but Blaine never failed to get him a birthday gift and something for Christmas as well. For someone who hadn’t celebrated Christmas since he was eight, he knew how to give gifts. </p><p>“I like getting you things, though,” Blaine pointed out, and then he laughed. “Besides, you only turn seventeen once, you know.” Yeah, there it was. The cheesy time-travel joke that Kurt had been waiting for.</p><p>“Har-de-har, Anderson,” Kurt grumbled, giving a soft cough. “You only think you’re funny.”</p><p>“Oh darling, I’m hilarious,” Blaine responded chirpily. “Now. Tell the truth, how are you feeling?”</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes. “I’m perfectly fine.”</p><p>“Right.” He could hear the sarcasm in Blaine’s voice. “So that’s why you sound like death?”</p><p>“For someone who professes to love me, you sure show it in the worst ways.”</p><p>“We once made the promise to always be honest with each other, darling,” Blaine said innocently. He was laughing at him; Kurt could hear it. “I’m only trying to keep that promise.” Kurt would have responded to that with something appropriately snarky, but his body betrayed him, and he let out a hacking cough instead, ending with a groan as he slumped into his pillows. He could practically hear Blaine wince. “Kurt, honey, are you sure this is just a cold?”</p><p>“Carole says it is,” Kurt rasped, reaching out his hand and groping for his water bottle. It was among his blankets somewhere, he was sure. “Says I should be over it by Friday at the latest. Which would be nice.” He sighed. “Dad’s taking me out for dinner Friday, and I know you have the extended Anderson Christmas dinner thing that night. You coming caroling with us on Saturday?”</p><p>“If my family lets me,” Blaine said softly. “I hate these family dinners,” he muttered, and Kurt felt for him, he really did. Blaine’s family, at least the Anderson side of it, had never made their contempt for Blaine’s ‘lifestyle choices’ unknown. It tended to make things awkward. </p><p>“I know, baby,” Kurt whispered. “Just get through it and then you can spend the rest of the weekend with us. We’re going to be decorating for Christmas.” Usually, they would have done this just after Thanksgiving, but with the move and all, the decorating just hadn’t been done yet. And then, after this weekend, there was only two full days of school and a half-day for both boys on Wednesday. Although, Kurt had been invited to the annual Warblers Christmas Movie Marathon on Wednesday that started right after lunch and ran through until about eight the next morning. Most of the other Dalton boys headed home after classes ended, leaving the dorms empty and the common room filled with just the singers. And Kurt was fully planning on bringing Blaine home with him after the movie marathon, since Blaine’s parents were leaving for Italy on Sunday.</p><p>“I can’t wait,” Blaine said, and it sounded sincere, so Kurt smiled and let the conversation return to it’s previous teasing and happiness.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter 22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He’d been very careful, very respectful. He’d answered all the questions politely, with very little personal detail. He’d kept his relationship out of all conversation. He’d smiled and nodded and tried not to make too much eye contact. He had made himself as invisible as possible, but still he must have done something wrong. </p>
<p>Because his mother had just pulled him aside harshly and was whispering about how disappointed she was that he was such a disgrace and why did he have to embarrass them like this? And his father was standing over her shoulder glaring daggers, and Blaine wanted to apologize, but he didn’t actually know what he’d done so he couldn’t just say sorry.</p>
<p>It didn’t matter in the end, because his parents promptly told him to leave and not sully the rest of the dinner and that he’d better make sure he stayed out of their way when they got home.</p>
<p>So, he left.</p>
<p>He hadn’t driven to the restaurant, and it was a good half-hour’s walk back to his house and it was snowing pretty heavily, but Blaine didn’t much care at the moment. Walking in the freezing air, the sun getting ready to set and the world going silent around him was much better than attempting to make it through another Anderson dinner. Especially when he didn’t know what he’d done wrong this time. </p>
<p>It took a little longer than half an hour to make it back to his house and he was soaked through and shivering by that time. But he didn’t bother with going in and changing, just jumping in his car instead, cranking up the heat, and making his way to Lima. It was a two-hour drive and he kind of wished he was back at Dalton, just so that he’d be closer. And he wouldn’t have had to have dealt with his family that way, either.</p>
<p>He could feel that warmth of Kurt’s love blossoming in his chest and he gave a small smile. Absently, Blaine tapped his ring against the steering wheel as he drove, letting that warmth fill him and sending it back, hoping that Kurt was having a much nicer dinner with his father than Blaine had had. Carole had opted to let Burt and Kurt keep their tradition of one-on-one birthday dinners, so she was at the house. Finn…Blaine didn’t know where Finn was.</p>
<p>The two hours seemed to fly by, but it was dark and impossibly cold by the time Blaine pulled into the Hudmel driveway. He made his way carefully up the icy walk and knocked on the door, rocking back and forth a little. Kurt wasn’t expecting him until tomorrow. He didn’t have his bag with him. He didn’t…</p>
<p>Carole opened the door, looking a little startled to see him there, but quickly ushered him inside. “Blaine, honey, Kurt’s still at dinner with his dad,” she said, taking his coat and frowning when she realized it was still a little damp. </p>
<p>“I know,” Blaine said softly, and she turned to look at him more fully, something in his voice having caught her attention.</p>
<p>“Come to the kitchen, darling,” she said, ushering him down the hall. “We can talk a bit. I have some cookies that Kurt made today. And I promise they’re germ free; he’s been over his cold since Wednesday.” </p>
<p>Blaine nodded, clearly lost in thought as she prodded him into sitting in one of the stools at the island and she busied herself in getting the cookies out. “How’s your wrist, sweetie?” she asked. And maybe she was layering on the pet-names, but Blaine tended to respond to them more than any of the other boys she’d ever worked with, her own included.</p>
<p>His parents hadn’t even noticed his bandaged wrist. Or, if they had, they hadn’t cared enough to ask. “It’s fine. Much better than it was.” He still had it wrapped; it would be another week or two before it was completely healed, but it was feeling much better regardless.</p>
<p>“Good,” Carole said, sitting the plate of cookies on the counter and leaning against the island, folding her arms on top of the counter. “Now…why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be at a family dinner?”</p>
<p>Blaine was silent for a long moment, absently playing with one of the cookies. And then he looked up at her, hesitant, his eyes more brown than gold now, dark and sad and confused. “Am I…” he stopped, biting his lip. “Do…Is there something wrong with me?” he asked. “Aside from the obvious?”</p>
<p>Carole frowned. “The obvious?” she asked, because honestly, she could see nothing wrong with the boy in front of her. He was a little twitchy at times, but that was nothing to be ashamed of.</p>
<p>Blaine rolled his eyes and waved a hand, and she knew it wasn’t aimed at her, his frustration. “I have PTSD, I freak out over little things and I don’t even know what half my triggers are. I crave attention but panic when I get it. I want to be touched but I can’t stand it half the time. I self-harm without even knowing I’m doing it.” He groaned, tapping his knuckles lightly against the countertop. “So yeah, I know that there’s something wrong with me. But all of that started after the bashing—well, maybe not the touching thing, that’s been an issue for years—and my parents hated me before that so…” He paused.</p>
<p>Carole was watching him silently, her face carefully blank. He looked up at her, head tilted, looking very much like a kicked puppy with his curls escaping from their gel and his cheeks still rosy from the cold. “I know that they hate that I’m gay, but they still hated me even before I came out…I don’t know what I did. I don’t know if I’m just inherently wrong or…”</p>
<p>“No,” Carole said, stopping that train of thought. “You’re not wrong, you’re not messed up. You’re perfect.” She saw his frown and waved it away. “Okay, maybe not perfect, but you don’t have to be. Blaine, there’s nothing wrong with you.”</p>
<p>“Then why don’t they love me?” He asked, and her heart broke a little at the despondency in that question. “Why don’t I deserve to be loved?”</p>
<p>“Does Kurt love you?” Carole asked, reaching forward to grab Blaine’s hand before it could make it to his mouth. She held it gently, her thumb smoothing over the scars he’d left on the skin right before Thanksgiving. He’d been lucky enough not to need stitches that time, but Carole could tell he hadn’t managed to break the habit of biting himself yet just from the light bruising that littered his thumb and wrist. In fact, that was probably the self-harming he’d been talking about.</p>
<p>“Yes.” And Blaine didn’t even have to think about it.</p>
<p>Carole nodded. “And how do you know he loves you?” she asked softly.</p>
<p>“Because he doesn’t hurt me,” Blaine responded absently.</p>
<p>She sucked in a breath, suddenly more worried than she had been before. “Blaine, honey, there’s more to love than just not being hurt—”</p>
<p>“I know,” Blaine said, just as fast, shaking his head, as though realizing just what he’d said. “I know. But that’s how it started. And now…” He sighed, his eyes falling shut for a moment. “I know Kurt loves me in the way that he says it with his whole body. The way he looks at me like I’m something special. The way he touches me like I deserve to be touched. The way he listens to what I say and even what I don’t say. …The way he makes love to me.” And he maybe should be more embarrassed to be talking about this to his boyfriend’s step-mother, but he couldn’t help but feel more comfortable talking right now, right here, than he had been outside of being with Kurt since they had come back<br/>. <br/>He took a deep breath, his hand tightening around Carole’s for a moment. “And I know I scare him sometimes,” he said softly. “When I…when I drift. Or when I get too submissive.” He huffed a soft, sardonic laugh. “He insisted on safe-words after that, because he was so worried.” Blaine looked up, meeting Carole’s eyes, and taking comfort in the fact that she wasn’t judging him. “I wish you could have seen who I was before Kurt, and you’d know just how much I know he loves me.”</p>
<p>“What do you mean?” she whispered, not wanting to break this spell that they were under in the quiet of the kitchen. She got the feeling that this boy desperately needed to talk to someone, someone older with more authority than he or Kurt had. She wasn’t sure she was the right person for the job, but she could do her best.</p>
<p>“Before Kurt I was a bit of a robot,” Blaine said with a bit of a shrug and a fake smile. “I was always confident and in control. I was a leader. I never let anything bother me. Always had the answers, knew exactly what to say. I was distant because distance was easier than being hurt. But I was in control.”</p>
<p>“And were you, really? In control?” Carole asked, because she didn’t recognize the Blaine that he was describing. He’d portrayed himself as confident, and as a leader while on stage, but Blaine had never put on such an act while around their family. She was incredibly grateful for that, she found.</p>
<p>“No. I was a good actor. Am a good actor. But no,” Blaine shrugged, looking away. He studied the pictures that Carole had hung on the wall; there was one of Kurt and Elizabeth having a tea party, right next to one of a younger Finn grinning up at the camera. “I…I’d already written my suicide note,” he confided, finding it surprising that it was so easy to do now. To admit just how broken he was. “And then, that same day, I met a kid that I saw myself in and I promised I’d answer my phone if he wanted to talk.” Blaine grimaced a little. “And I hated myself as soon as I made that promise because it messed up my plans, so I told myself I’d give the guy two days and if he didn’t call then that was that.”</p>
<p>“But Kurt called,” Carole said, wanting very much to cry at that moment.</p>
<p>“Kurt called,” Blaine said, looking back at her. “And then he called again. And then he stayed. He saw me and I didn’t have to act anymore. And he didn’t hurt me even when he knew how broken I was. And…” he paused, gathering his thoughts a bit. “And he’s not trying to fix me or change me. Kurt just…he’s just holding all the broken pieces for me while I figure out how to put myself back together.” And he was, that was exactly what Kurt was doing. It’d taken them a while to figure it out, but Kurt had never actively tried to fix Blaine. He’d just been there supporting him. At most, the only change Kurt had wanted was for Blaine to stop pretending.</p>
<p>“And if you and Kurt don’t last?” Carole asked, because she had to. Because Blaine had just confessed more than she ever wanted to hear anyone confess, especially such a kind and caring young man as he was.</p>
<p>Blaine stared at her for a moment, because that wasn’t a feasible question in his mind. Kurt wouldn’t be leaving him this time. It had happened before, yes, but they’d been young and made so many mistakes. And Blaine had lived through them and fought to keep living even when he didn’t want to. So, he shrugged. “I’d figure it out,” he responded. “Kurt is the love of my life,” he admitted. “But he’s not my everything. He refuses to be. Says that I need more to live for than just him.”</p>
<p>Carole nodded, letting go of Blaine’s hand and stepping around the island so she could pull him into a hug. He flinched at first and then melted into the embrace and she found herself hating his parents more than she’d ever hated anyone. “Good,” she whispered. “Blaine, darling, have you thought about therapy?” Because this boy needed it. He desperately needed someone to talk to.</p>
<p>“I want to,” he said into her shoulder, and she ran her fingers through his hair, reveling in the way he relaxed into her. “But my parents won’t sign off on it, and our insurance won’t let a minor do so. I’ve talked to a friend’s sister a bit, off the record, since she’s a psychologist, but nothing official.” That was the story they’d come up with, him and Kurt, to explain some of his reactions to things. How they knew, to some degree, what he was going through.</p>
<p>“Okay,” she whispered, petting his hair for a moment longer. “Why don’t you take a warm shower and I’ll make up some hot chocolate for you,” she suggested. “I have a book that was recommended to me by some of my teenage patients. It’s really good; I’ve been holding onto it because I thought you’d like it.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Carole,” Blaine said, pulling back from the hug. He looked straight at her, his eyes back to their usual warm, golden honey. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “For listening and…and everything.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~</p>
</div>It was almost midnight by the time Kurt and Burt returned from a wonderful birthday dinner. But Kurt was frowning a little upon entering the house. “Was that Blaine’s car?” he asked, motioning in the direction of the driveway.<p>Carole nodded, leading the two men to the kitchen with a sigh. “Yes. His family dinner didn’t go well, so we just…talked for a while.” Kurt fell silent, gazing at her thoughtfully. After a moment he gave a nod, and she had a feeling that he knew the gist of what they’d talked about. “Kurt, honey, how long have you known he was –is?—suicidal?” she asked softly.</p>
<p>“He admitted it last week, when I was at Dalton,” Kurt responded, just as soft. Burt was gaping at the two of them, clearly not having expected this kind of turn in conversation. “But I think I’ve always known. Or, at least, suspected.” He shrugged a little. “He’s working on it and two of his friends at Dalton know now too, so he’s got some more support there.”</p>
<p>“And his parents?” Carole asked, though her voice had gotten a bit sharper.</p>
<p>Kurt scoffed. “They’re assholes,” he said, just short of sneering. “They honestly couldn’t care less. In fact, they once asked him why he couldn’t have just saved them the trouble and died after the bashing.” That hadn’t happened yet; his father had yelled that at him during Blaine’s senior year, not long before they’d broken up that first time. But it had happened, and Blaine hadn’t forgotten about it. </p>
<p>Carole placed a hand on Burt’s arm, trying to keep him calm. She nodded softly. “He seems like he’s doing okay.”</p>
<p>“He is,” Kurt replied, unwinding his scarf from his neck. “He’s a whole lot better than he was.”</p>
<p>Carole smiled softly and then raised a single eyebrow. “Kurt, Blaine said a lot tonight, and I have to ask about something he mentioned. Safe-words?”</p>
<p>“Wait, what?” Burt blurted out. “Hold up a moment. You guys are getting into stuff that you felt the need for safe-words for?” He looked concerned, and a little bit upset, and Kurt couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He knew that his father had automatically assumed that Kurt would be the one using the words, after all.</p>
<p>“No, Dad,” he said, and then he frowned. “Well, yes, in that I insisted we have them, but not because of what you think.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Blaine gets…scarily submissive sometimes and I don’t think he’d even have the presence of mind to ask me to stop when he gets that way, even if he wanted to. So, I set up a system. The only rule is that when I ask for a color, he has to answer honestly. Green for good, yellow for slow down and red for stop. And we don’t only use it for sex, either. It’s a good way to get a handle on how he’s doing in social situations as well.” He saw his dad’s look and rolled his eyes. “Dad, we’ve only had sex a handful of times, but it only had to happen once for me to get worried enough to insist on the system.”</p>
<p>Burt’s eyes narrowed. “When was the first time you two had sex?” he asked, and maybe he was overstepping a little, but he wasn’t about to tell his son to <em>stop</em>. </p>
<p>A year from now? Five years ago? What was the right answer here? “Two weeks ago,” Kurt replied. He shrugged. “We’ve only been dating since September,” he pointed out. They were, when compared to everyone else in the school it seemed, going glacially slow in their relationship. (Had gone even slower the first time around; neither of them regretted it.) “And Dad, I know you’re worried, but…Blaine is the love of my life. He’s my soulmate. I plan on holding onto him forever.” He absently twisted his ring, finger pads feeling the word carved into the metal. “He’s mine, and I’m never letting him go. I’m never saying goodbye to him. So, you don’t need to worry.”</p>
<p>“You just turned seventeen today,” Burt pointed out. Because Kurt was still young, and this was still so new, and he liked Blaine, he really did, but he didn’t want either boy to get hurt. He honestly and truly believed that these two would last and that they’d be married before they finished college, but he had to ask. He had to be sure.</p>
<p>“I feel like I’ve known him forever,” Kurt smiled, and it was all Elizabeth in that smile.</p>
<p>Burt met Carole’s eyes and they both nodded to each other. They’d stay out of it; the boys could make their own decisions and they’d stand by the both of them. “Blaine’s upstairs in your room, dear,” Carole said. “I don’t know if he’s still awake or not. I gave him a book to read.”</p>
<p>Kurt nodded, kissed them both on the cheek and wished them a good night. He made his way up the stairs and then up to his attic room. Finn was snoring up a storm in his room, and Kurt was once again glad that he didn’t have to share with the boy anymore. His own room was easily the largest in the house, when it came to floor space (although the sloping ceilings made for interesting times), but no one had been bothered. Finn had said that there were far too many steps, and he liked having the biggest balcony anyway. Kurt stepped around the partition and smiled to himself at the sight that greeted him. </p>
<p>Blaine had obviously fallen asleep while reading, his glasses still on (since he had opted to keep a pair or two at Kurt’s house after forgetting them there or at Dalton one too many times). His hair was a curly, frizzy mess, obviously having just been left alone since showering. He was wearing his Dalton sweatshirt (and, oops, that meant he knew that Kurt had stolen it) and a pair of bright yellow and green yoga pants he’d taken from Kurt’s dresser. The book he’d been reading, some teen supernatural romance or the other, was lying open by his side. </p>
<p>He crawled carefully onto the bed, sliding the book away and placing it on the side table. With practiced motions, Kurt softly took Blaine’s glasses from his face and set them aside. And then he buried his hand in Blaine’s hair and began scratching softly, pressing against Blaine’s scalp and enjoying the soft sigh he got from his love. Blaine’s eyes flickered open and he smiled sleepily up at Kurt, languid and warm. “Mmm…Maligayang kaarawan, mahal.”</p>
<p>Kurt smiled at the birthday greeting, leaning down to press his lips against Blaine’s forehead. “Thank you, baby,” he whispered. “Heard your night wasn’t as good. I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>Blaine yawned, turning into Kurt’s heat and nuzzling his face into Kurt’s chest. “Carole’s pretty awesome, you know?” he asked. “I think I may have talked too much, though.”</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” Kurt soothed, his hand sliding from Blaine’s hair down the boy’s back, tracing his spine. “You needed to talk.”</p>
<p>“Don’t want anyone to look at me different,” Blaine whispered tiredly, eyes fluttering shut as Kurt’s hand returned to his hair. Kurt was always hard pressed to keep his hands away when Blaine’s curls were free. </p>
<p>“Everyone in this house loves you, Blaine,” Kurt responded, just as soft. “Even Finn to the degree that he can love anyone.”</p>
<p>“Don’t be rude.”</p>
<p>“You know what I mean,” Kurt grinned. “We all love you. And we’re all here for you, talking too much or not. I’m never letting you go, baby.”</p>
<p>Blaine smiled up at him, soft and warm and open, and then it turned a little cheeky even as he yawned again. “You’re going to have to let go in order to get ready for bed, honey,” he commented happily. “I’m tired. I want cuddles.”</p>
<p>“So demanding,” Kurt teased, easing off the bed to get ready for the night. “Have you slept okay this week?”</p>
<p>“Well enough,” Blaine mumbled, which meant that he really hadn't, but there hadn't been any nightmares. “Cuddled with Wes and David. They’re like overly friendly octopi. And David drools.”</p>
<p>Kurt laughed, sliding around the partition to get to the bathroom. “Sounds lovely,” he called back. By the time he was done with his moisturizing and usual bedtime routines, Blaine was asleep again. Kurt turned out the lights, crawled into bed and marveled at the way that Blaine immediately rolled into him, snuggling and cuddling and very much still asleep. He could get used to this, he thought. He was used to it in that he’d had it for so long after getting married. But their deaths had kind of ruined that for them.</p>
<p>Only, had it really? Because this time around, they were fixing issues that they had still been carrying around before. They were gaining allies faster than they ever had. They were changing the opinions of small minds in their schools, even if they couldn’t do much more than that. </p>
<p>And they still loved each other. So much. It was always there, the love in their chests, strong and warm and capable of filling their entire beings when they needed it. And their rings, a constant reminder of their marriage and vows and that they would be together Forever and Always. The rings never came off; Kurt had tried once, out of curiosity, and while he could easily twist it, the ring never came off his finger. He assumed Blaine’s was the same way, as it was always present.</p>
<p>Kurt sighed sleepily and pressed his face to Blaine’s hair, whispering his love and relaxing into sleep. He couldn’t wait for the day that this would be his constant.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Chapter 23</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were awoken on Saturday morning to Finn, Sam and Puck all jumping on them in the bed, yelling about how it was time to get up. Kurt groaned, glaring blearily at the three boys, while Blaine burrowed further under the covers, trying to hide. Finn laughed, tugging at the blankets. “Come on, dudes, it’s like almost ten!” he said, bouncing some more.</p>
<p>“Yo! Let’s go! We have a birthday to celebrate!” Puck crowed, grabbing the two boys under the blankets in a massive hug and shaking them back and forth. “Up! Get up!”</p>
<p>Sam was laughing too hard to actually say much of anything, but he gave a yelp when Blaine managed to kick him off the bed and he hit the ground with a thump. Blaine peeked out from under the covers, glaring down at the blond. “Go ‘way,” he mumbled.</p>
<p>“No,” Puck said, finally managing to yank the quilt off. “Get up!”</p>
<p>“Mom’s made pancakes!” Finn said happily, jumping off the bed and tugging Kurt with him. “By the way, happy birthday again, little bro!”</p>
<p>Kurt grumbled, running a hand through his hair. “I’m three months older than you, Finn,” he snarked, turning back in time to see Blaine faceplant back onto the bed. Puck, apparently, wasn’t going to let him get away with that though, as he just grabbed the smaller boy and threw him over his shoulder.</p>
<p>“Still shorter, though!” Finn said, watching Blaine carefully to make sure he didn’t react negatively to Puck’s treatment. Kurt was impressed, really, with how much Finn seemed to care, and he wondered a little if the boy may have overheard some of the conversation that had happened last night between Carole and Blaine.</p>
<p>Blaine, for his part, stiffened at the contact, drawing in a shaky breath. Puck awkwardly patted his back, adjusting his grip but not setting the boy down. “Not gonna hurt ya, Birdie,” he said softly, heading for the stairs. “Come on, guys! I want pancakes!”</p>
<p>Finn laughed, grabbing Kurt and throwing him over his shoulder much like Puck had done with Blaine. “Let’s go!”</p>
<p>“What are you guys even doing here?” Kurt asked Sam, looking up at him from where he was hanging uselessly from Finn’s shoulder. He didn’t even think about trying to fight him, what with the number of stairs they were traversing. He really didn’t feel like having anyone injured. </p>
<p>Sam shrugged, grinning. “It’s your birthday, Kurt!” he said, clapping his hands in excitement. “We’re here to celebrate!”</p>
<p>And by ‘we’, he meant all of New Directions, all of them crowding in the kitchen for pancakes and fruit salad. If Kurt had been the old Kurt, he probably would have panicked at the thought of all his friends seeing him so disheveled and still in the old Hummel Tire and Lube t-shirt and yoga pants combo he’d been sleeping in. Now, he didn’t much care about that, as he just let himself be happy that his friends had decided to show up at his house on a Saturday morning to celebrate his birthday. (Yes, it was the day after, but he’d already explained to everyone that he was going to just celebrate with his dad the day of…so…)</p>
<p>“Morning boys!” Carole called, laughing at the sight of Kurt and Blaine being carried in such a way.</p>
<p>Both boys were deposited at the dining room table, plates piled with fruit and pancakes set in front of them while the rest of the kids crowded around the massive table with them. Blaine blinked blearily at Kurt, looking a little lost, and Kurt just shrugged a bit, giving him a smile. Blaine leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek and then turned to his breakfast.</p>
<p>There was a lot of laughter and teasing throughout the breakfast. “I still don’t know how you two get away with sharing a bed though!” Tina said, after much laughter in learning that Blaine had actually kicked Sam onto the ground.</p>
<p>“It helps that they can’t get pregnant,” Carole pointed out, sweetly enough that everyone knew she wasn’t throwing any shade to the one girl in the group that had been pregnant before, as she slipped behind her three boys, all sitting in a row. She pressed a kiss to Kurt’s hair, then Finn’s and lastly Blaine’s, sitting between the two brothers. “And it has a lot to do with respect. Also…we trust them.” </p>
<p>“Favorites,” Finn coughed, grinning a little, much to the amusement of everyone around the table. Burt, in the background, gave a mockingly thoughtful nod.</p>
<p>Carole patted his head. “You know, you could vie for that position if you actually completed your chores the first time we asked you to do them,” she said, much to the amusement of those around them.</p>
<p>“So, you’d let my girlfriends stay over?” Finn asked, wide-eyed and innocently. He couldn’t pull off the puppy-eyes like Blaine could, though. No one could, to be honest; that boy could get pretty much anything from anybody when he used those eyes.</p>
<p>“No,” Carole said, giving him an arched look. “There’s still that matter of respect and trust we talked about. Don’t push it. Also, your girlfriends don’t do chores here. Blaine does, for whatever reason,” she said, giving Blaine an amused look when he just shrugged at her and gave a cheeky grin. </p>
<p>“So, Birdie,” Quinn asked, eager to change the subject. Both Kurt and Blaine were blushing, and while it was cute, she figured it was time to move on. “What did you get Kurt for his birthday?”</p>
<p>Kurt pouted. “He won’t tell me, the big meanie,” he grumbled.</p>
<p>Blaine rolled his eyes fondly. “Kurt, I say this with all the love I have for you. Quit your bitching. You’ll know when it gets here.” Kurt’s eyes narrowed, and he turned a tight glare on his grinning husband-boyfriend. Blaine merely raised an eyebrow and placed another bite of pancake in his mouth. </p>
<p>“You’re treading thin ice, boy,” Kurt warned softly.</p>
<p>Blaine laughed. “Mahal, I love you, but you have very little patience. Your gift is supposed to be here by Thursday. You can wait.”</p>
<p>Kurt huffed, and he was vaguely aware that everyone was watching this exchange. No one ever got away with talking back to him like that, after all.  “Is it worth it?” he asked, pouting again. </p>
<p>“Isn’t it always?” Blaine asked, sounded rather confident. Kurt rolled his eyes and then turned back to Quinn with a shrug and a half-grin. Considering this was the first birthday that Blaine had supposedly spent with Kurt, that was a weird comeback. But they weren’t going to go into that right now.</p>
<p>“Right,” Mercedes said with a smile, rather impressed that Blaine hadn’t been verbally torn by shreds after that display. “Well, don’t forget that you have all the presents from the rest of us!” And she wasn’t lying, there was a pile of gifts waiting in the living room. Once breakfast was done and the dishes were cleaned up, Kurt and Blaine were sent back upstairs to get ready for the day.</p>
<p>They returned, a little under half an hour later, much more presentable. Kurt was dressed in his usual skinny jeans, these ones a dark purple, with a white shirt, black vest and purple scarf. Blaine was in bright red skinny jeans, with a tight, black polo and purple bowtie. His hair was much more tamed, although not in its usual gel helmet, and he was wearing his glasses. </p>
<p>Kurt made his way through the gifts, marveling at the fact that everyone had managed to get him something he liked. There were a few scarves, some wonderful brooches, some sewing supplies and a couple books that looked interesting. During this time, Rachel had managed to corner Blaine and was trying to get him to give up secrets about Regionals. He was somewhat amused, considering she was so against spies herself, but he didn’t have any information for her. The Warblers had only been working towards their Christmas performance that was happening on Tuesday. (Yay for being able to get out of class! Granted, that had meant that all the finals that they’d originally been supposed to take that day had to happen yesterday.)</p>
<p>Santana ‘rescued’ him from Rachel, but then promptly started asking for details on his and Kurt’s sex life. He just stared blankly at her, blinking large puppy dog eyes. “No hablo Ingles,” he said, with a shrug.</p>
<p>She smirked at him and asked again in Spanish, this time using a little more vulgar language, since the parental units hanging about wouldn’t understand.</p>
<p>Blaine kept up his blank look, still shrugging. “Hindi ako nagsasalita ng Espanyol,” he said, garnering an amused look from Kurt. Santana huffed, crossing her arms underneath her breasts and giving him an unimpressed look. He smiled at her, still blankly, and skirted behind Finn, using him as a convenient barrier. Finn laughed and maneuvered so that he was constantly blocking Santana from Blaine, making it a game. </p>
<p>After a while, Santana gave up and Blaine collapsed next to Kurt, giggling to himself. Kurt pressed a kiss to his cheek, carefully stacking his gifts and thanking his friends profusely. A phone started ringing and Blaine blinked as he realized it was his ringtone. He patted his pockets, frowning, and then turned to where Puck was holding his phone, waving it in the air. Blaine was pretty sure that he’d had it in his pocket earlier, which meant that Puck had stolen it at some point. Pretty impressive, considering how tight his pants were, to be honest. (Although he was certainly glad that he had a good password, when he remembered some of the texting conversations he had with Kurt. Not sexy ones, they didn’t do that kind of stuff, but the time-travel ones…)</p>
<p>“Yo, Birdie, some dude named Cooper is calling,” he grinned, although there was a warning look on his face.</p>
<p>Blaine froze, his brow scrunching a little, and the phone continued ringing. “Cooper?” he asked, sounding a little rough.</p>
<p>“What? Old boyfriend?” Artie asked, eyebrows raised. Apparently, that seemed to be the consensus of most of the group, since they were all giving him odd looks at this point. </p>
<p>“Blaine, baby,” Kurt said, standing slowly to take Blaine’s phone, which had stopped ringing by this point, and press it into Blaine’s hand. “You should probably call your brother back.” That made the others stop for a moment because they hadn’t known Blaine had a brother. Well, aside from Finn.</p>
<p>“But…why was he calling?” Blaine asked, staring down at his phone and sounding incredibly confused. And very insecure. “He never calls. I haven’t talked to him in…I don’t know, years?”</p>
<p>“Call him back,” Kurt ordered, taking Blaine’s shoulders and leading him to the doorway of the den. He then turned back to his friends and started a new conversation with them, drawing most of the attention away from Blaine. </p>
<p>They did try not to eavesdrop too obviously, but Blaine had looked upset at the fact that his brother had called, which gave many of them odd feelings. They didn’t like seeing their Birdie upset. It didn’t matter that Blaine was competition, he was one of them. So, when Blaine turned, rolling his eyes at seeing all of them watching him, he just sighed, and they just shrugged. </p>
<p>“No, Mom and Dad are going to Italy for Christmas. I wasn’t invited. I’m staying with my boyfriend.” There was a long pause. “I don’t really care what they think, Coop.” Another pause, and then a surprised look. “Um…thank you?” Blaine waved a hand at his friends and wandered further into the den, turning his back on them and speaking softer.</p>
<p>Kurt smiled a little, shaking his head. They’d known, of course, that Cooper would have no problem with Blaine having a boyfriend. In fact, Cooper had been one of Blaine’s biggest supporters. Even after Blaine had been disowned. And, as Blaine had once pointed out, they weren’t even full siblings, the two of them having different mothers. And then Kurt had pointed out that he and Finn didn’t share any blood but had both loved each other very much, so blood really didn’t matter when it came to family.</p>
<p>“Is Birdie going singing with us, Kurtie?” Brittney asked, sidling up to Kurt and hugging him tightly. “Birds are supposed to sing really pretty, and our Birdie has a really pretty voice. But they’re also supposed to fly south for winter. So, I don’t know if he’ll want to sing right now.”</p>
<p>Kurt smiled at her, kissing her forehead gently. “Yes, B’s singing with us today,” he replied. “We’re actually heading to the neighborhood that a lot of his friends live in,” he said. They were heading out of Lima for the evening, since they didn’t think the town would be that receptive of them, what with past experiences. So, they were making their way to the neighborhood that Dalton was located in, and a lot of the Warblers lived nearby. Wes did for sure, and Kurt was pretty sure that Jeff lived around there somewhere at the very least.</p>
<p>“That’ll be fun,” Rachel said, although there was a glint in her eye that had Kurt sighing.</p>
<p>“You can’t get Regionals information from any of them, Rach,” he said with a long-suffering tone. “They haven’t even started working on their setlist yet.”</p>
<p>Her eyes narrowed, but then, most of the club’s did. “And how do you know that, Kurt?” Rachel asked, hands on hips. “I thought you said that you two don’t talk about competition stuff.” They had both promised to both glee clubs involved that there would be no talk about competitions between the two of them. Not that it mattered, since they knew what was going to happen. Kind of. Blaine had admitted that the Warbler’s setlist was probably going to change, considering he refused to sing lead for everything, and Kurt wasn’t there to duet with him. New Directions would probably still do original songs, though.</p>
<p>Kurt’s eyebrow rose as he cocked a hip and crossed his arms. “We don’t. We do, however, talk about Christmas concerts, which is all they’ve been working on lately.” He rolled his eyes. “And you’d know that, if you’d paid attention to what Blaine was trying to tell you earlier.”</p>
<p>Blaine wandered back in at that point, looking a little confused, but not terribly upset. “Cooper wants to tell you ‘hi’,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around Kurt and resting his head on his husband-boyfriend’s shoulder. He was fine but needed a moment to settle and Kurt gave him that moment. </p>
<p>“What did he want?” Kurt asked after a short pause, glaring down his friends to keep them from asking anything at all.</p>
<p>Blaine shrugged. “Apparently Dad called him to rant about how terrible I am or something, so he called to congratulate me for getting them all in a tizzy. Said it was the highlight of his week.” Blaine rolled his eyes, pulling back from the embrace with a huff. “Then he said that they’re assholes and I should definitely keep doing what I’m doing and that he wishes he could come for Christmas, but he actually just landed a rather decent callback audition for a roll in an upcoming movie.”</p>
<p>Huh. That was different. Last time, Cooper hadn’t even tried reconciling with his brother until he had sprung that visit on him during school. And then it had been touchy and strained for months, years really, before they’d worked it out. And he’d never gotten a roll in any movies, just small commercials here and there. Kurt supposed that Blaine had been reaching out more this time around, and that could have been what was making the biggest difference. Also, the Fates had mentioned that some things would be different just in general so…</p>
<p>He shook it off. Pressing a kiss to Blaine’s hairline, he kept his arm firmly around Blaine’s waist, thumb rubbing at his hipbone over the jeans. “That’s good, B,” he whispered. “Progress.” He turned back to the group of classmates in front of him. “So, I’m assuming we’re all just hanging out until we’re supposed to go out and carol?” he asked, smiling.</p>
<p>There were rather loud affirmations, and they all piled into the den to watch movies. Carole and Burt came through with pizza and sandwiches halfway through the movie Chicago, to which all the guys were singing and dancing along with, leaving the girls in stitches. Mercedes was definitely filming as Blaine, Kurt, Puck, Mike, Sam and Finn performed Cell Block Tango, sultry dance moves and all. (Kurt had plans to send that one to Wes, as he thought the Warbler would love it.)</p>
<p>It was fun and silly and loose, and Kurt couldn’t remember this happening last time. He was sure they’d never had moments like this last time outside of alcohol fueled parties. New Directions was closer than ever, this time around, and Kurt didn’t exactly know how that had happened. Even with the current break ups and hook ups, Finn and Rachel weren’t pining after each other, Quinn and Sam weren’t fighting, Artie wasn’t giving Santana evil looks for hanging with Brittney. Finn and Puck were on good terms, despite Rachel making out with Puck while dating Finn. It was comfortable, and Kurt was wondering just what had caused it. </p>
<p>And then he noticed Blaine sliding through the group when he wasn’t singing with the boys. He talked to everyone, quietly, meshing groups and keeping people from pairing off completely. And, Kurt realized, that he’d been doing it too without noticing what he was doing. They’d been keeping the drama to a low buzz for weeks and hadn’t even noticed. (Well, except for the drama that they brought with them for being an openly gay teenage couple in the middle of Ohio. But, hey, they were trying…)</p>
<p>Halfway through Disney’s Aladdin, Blaine fell asleep, wedged between Kurt and Puck. Even last night’s full night of rest wasn’t enough to rectify a week of intermittent sleep apparently. Kurt smiled fondly, pulling Blaine closer, so that he wouldn’t fall over on Puck, who just rolled his eyes at their snuggling.</p>
<p>Finn sat down at that moment, incredibly close to Kurt, throwing his arm around his brother’s shoulder and leaning down to whisper, “I didn’t mean to overhear but Blaine was talking to Mom last night and…”</p>
<p>“Not now, Finn,” Kurt warned, cutting him off. He gave Finn a long, searching look. “Yes, I was aware of all of it. Yes, it’s true. No, it’s not something you need to worry about. Okay? He’s fine, I’ve got him. Don’t tell anyone else, though.”</p>
<p>Finn was silent for a long moment, looking between Kurt and Blaine as he worked something through in his head. “Okay,” He finally said. “I trust you. I like him, Kurt. He makes you happy.”</p>
<p>“He does,” Kurt nodded, his fingers playing with the small curls at the nape of Blaine’s neck. </p>
<p>Finn patted Kurt’s shoulder and leaned back into the couch, not removing his arm. “Cool. Happy birthday, bro.” And if, in the end, Blaine ended up curled in Kurt’s lap with his feet resting in Finn’s, Finn didn’t seem bothered by it at all, just resting his hand on Blaine’s shins. Puck pouted a bit about being left out of the cuddling, though. </p>
<p>It was a few hours later that they were all piling into their cars and driving out to where they’d agreed to meet Mr. Schue for their caroling. It had started snowing lightly at this point, but not enough for any trouble driving. Mr. Schue quickly ran through their list of songs and the order, and they started singing. </p>
<p>Many people opened their doors and were very pleased to see the carolers. It was a pleasant change to how things usually went down in Lima. Kurt wasn’t entirely sure what Lima had against talent, or singing at least, but they had never been very receptive to it. It made him think of the upcoming benefit concert that New Directions was going to want to put on, and how he needed to somehow change that idea to something different. Or something…he didn’t know. He’d talk to Blaine about it later.</p>
<p>Jeff sang along to the songs when he opened the door to the house, throwing a friendly arm around Blaine’s shoulders and smiling happily. Nick bounded out the door after him, wrapping his arms around Kurt as he sang <em>We Wish You A Merry Christmas</em> with them. The rest of ND laughed at the two playful boys, and after about half an hour of singing, they decided it was time to move on to the next house.</p>
<p>Blaine waved goodbye to the two, flipping them the bird when Jeff made a salacious comment. “What’s going on with the two of them, exactly?” Kurt leaned in to ask, having never gotten the full explanation.</p>
<p>“Well, Nick’s bi, apparently,” Blaine shrugged, rubbing his hands together for warmth. His fingers were freezing even despite the thick gloves. “Which explains a couple things he’s said to me in the past…”</p>
<p>“Told him he wasn’t straight,” Kurt grumbled, rolling his eyes. “And Jeff?”</p>
<p>Blaine shrugged again, tossing an arm around Kurt’s waist to steady him when he slipped a little on a patch of ice. “Well…Jeff’s confused. He and Nick are boyfriends now, but Jeff hasn’t ever been interested in anyone else. Ever. Male or female. I’m going with demi, but he doesn’t know.”</p>
<p>“Demi sounds right in that case. Maybe pan,” Kurt said, stepping more carefully around the ice. They were at the back of the group by this point, not actually singing along, as they hadn’t made it to the next house yet. “I love you, you know that?”</p>
<p>“Yeah?” Blaine replied, tilting his head to look at Kurt curiously. “I love you too.”</p>
<p>“Hmm,” Kurt hummed happily, stepping forward as the door in front of them opened and the group began to sing again. Sadly, Wes hadn’t been home and Blaine had mentioned something about him being at David’s for the weekend. </p>
<p>By the time the caroling was done, and the rest of the New Directions members had split up to go their own way, it was dark outside. Finn, Kurt and Blaine headed home, eager to get warm again. The snow hadn’t really let up, and the drive was slow, since the roads were a bit more treacherous at this point. But when they got to the house, there was a pleasant surprise of a large pine tree in the tower corner of the living room. Boxes of decorations were out (the only boxes left, actually, and they were usually stored in the basement. Carole had made fast work of getting the house put together.) and Burt and Carole had prepared hot chocolate for the group. Christmas music was softly playing from the den, as well.</p>
<p>Blaine sat back and watched as Kurt and Finn decorated the tree. He didn’t really feel comfortable joining in with this activity and was getting enough out of just observing. Carole had asked if he’d wanted to help, but he’d just shaken his head and continued to watch. He hadn’t decorated for Christmas since he was…eight? Maybe? They hadn’t celebrated it in that long, at least, since Cooper had left, and Blaine had already been seen as an embarrassment to his parents for whatever reason.</p>
<p>In fact, as far as Blaine could remember the only gifts he’d ever gotten for Christmas had come from Cooper (although that had dried up fairly quickly once he’d moved out) and his grandparents on his mother’s side. His father’s parents had apparently taken one look at him when he was born and wanted nothing to do with him. Fair enough; he didn’t much like them either.</p>
<p>He had odd feelings about Christmas; on the one hand he liked the fact that he was out of school and the overall holiday atmosphere that many public spaces had. On the other, he was often left alone for those weeks out of school, and that had been terribly lonely. He loved Kurt’s family for always being so willing to let him hang around. </p>
<p>Blaine didn’t sleep that night, but he did manage to finish the book that Carole had lent him, so there was that, at least.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Chapter 24</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Blaine had left the Hudmel house Sunday evening feeling full of delicious food, well loved, and while not exactly well-rested, much more at ease than he had been before. So, when Monday came, and it was a complete flurry of testing and preparations for the break, he felt he was at least a little ready for it.</p>
<p>Kurt, on the other hand was stressed. He remembered everything about these finals (thank you Fate wishes!) but didn’t care to actually do the testing. College was important, especially since he planned on actually going to a fashion school this time, so he knew his grades were important, but he didn’t much care for the act of actually getting the grades. Plus, Finn and Quinn had started dating again, legitimately, which led to his brother bemoaning about his girl problems to Kurt, who really couldn’t care. If everything went as he and Blaine planned, then Finn would survive to marry Rachel eventually anyway (because although Kurt had liked Jesse St. James well enough once the guy had grown up a bit, he knew that Rachel’s heart would always belong to Finn, first and foremost). </p>
<p>Quinn…well, she had never actually met The One while Kurt had been alive before. So, he wasn’t sure what to do about the girl. Maybe this time around they could find her someone while in college. She’d almost been done with her law degree when they’d died. (Blaine was convinced that Quinn and Puck were meant to be, but they had to figure it out for themselves…if it was true, they hadn’t figured it out yet upon their deaths.)</p>
<p>Kurt was grateful for the third hour reprieve from testing, since Mr. Schue wasn’t about to give them a final in Glee. Granted, for class purposes, they all had to complete an assignment, which the teacher had made to be writing a paragraph about what Glee meant to them this semester. It was easily finished in less than ten minutes. And then the group huddled around to talk to each other, despite having spent all of Saturday together. Mr. Schue was busy grading Spanish finals, deciding to use this time wisely so he wouldn’t have to later. He was keeping a careful eye on the group, though, as he’d taken Kurt’s words earlier in the semester to heart and was always on the lookout for any kinds of bullying. </p>
<p>Kurt was in the middle of telling Mercedes and Santana about a set of designs that they’d inspired, when his phone vibrated. He glanced at it and then burst out laughing.</p>
<p>
  <em>KUUURRRT!!!! NIFF JUST ASKED ME TO EXPLAIN HOW GAY SEX WORKS! I’M NOT GIVING MY FRIENDS THE TALK KURT! HELP!</em>
</p>
<p>“Sexting, Hummel?” Santana quipped, giving a saucy grin. “How unlike you.”</p>
<p>Kurt choked, laughing again and shaking his head. “No. But…do you remember Jeff and Nick? The two boys who sang with us on Saturday when we stopped by one of the houses?” At the nods he received, Santana’s comment having caught the attention of Artie, Sam and Tina as well, he continued. “They just asked Blaine to explain gay sex to them. B’s panicking a little.”</p>
<p>“What, doesn’t he know?” Santana drawled, giving him a mockingly disappointed look.</p>
<p>Kurt rolled his eyes. “Of course he does. Doesn’t mean he wants to explain it to his friends. Seriously, what if Tina or Rachel or someone asked you to give them The Talk?” At that, everyone screwed up their faces; it wasn’t a pleasant thought. </p>
<p>
  <strong>You do not want to know how tempted I am to hand my phone over to Santana right now.</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Please don’t. Just help?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Tell them that dating two weeks is not long enough to even be thinking about sex at this point. And that they can get information from the clinic. In fact, the nurse at Dalton should have some pamphlets on it as well.</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Wait. She does?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Yup. She offered them to me at one point. But that was after my dad talked to me.</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Toast.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Lol. Breathe baby. Don’t let them bully you into giving up any details you don’t want to.</strong>
</p>
<p>He loved how ‘toast’ was now something that they could laugh about, even without any context involved. It was just their go-to answer for any awkward moment.</p>
<p>“Please don’t tell me that you two haven’t even gotten it on yet, Porcelain,” Santana said, although it was much softer. Artie had already gotten drawn into a different conversation with Finn and Puck, but Tina and Sam had joined their little circle. Mercedes had even scooted closer to Sam, and Kurt was glad that that relationship seemed to be starting on a good foot. </p>
<p>“Our sex lives are private for a reason, Satan,” Kurt replied, glancing at his phone while he texted. He looked up at her, raising an eyebrow. “I’m quite happy with the pace we’re going, and you certainly don’t need any details.”</p>
<p>Tina pouted. “No details at all?”</p>
<p>Kurt sighed, rolled his eyes, and then scrolled through his phone for a moment. He pulled up the video that Jeff had sent, when Blaine had torn into Veronica Mayors. “Here. A few details for you.”</p>
<p>His four friends leaned in closer, watching the small screen and listening to Blaine’s soft voice telling the girl off. And their jaws all dropped; they’d never really seen this side of Blaine before. Sam gave a soft whistle, “Wow. That was good.”</p>
<p>“Oh, he really hit her where it hurts,” Mercedes whispered. “Were her shoes really knockoffs? I couldn’t tell in the recording. The screen was too small.”</p>
<p>“They were,” Kurt nodded. “Blaine assures me that they were atrocious, on top of that.” </p>
<p>Santana eyed Kurt thoughtfully. “You know, I wouldn’t have pegged you as a top. I’d always thought that was more Blaine’s style.”</p>
<p>“Really?” Sam asked, looking confused. “Because if Kurt were a woman, I’d totally call him a dominatrix,” he grinned. Kurt gave him a slightly scandalized look, but the glint in his eye showed that he saw the humor in Sam’s comment. “And Birdie is totally a bottom. Seriously? You didn’t call it? You?”</p>
<p>Santana scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, tone going a little icy.</p>
<p>Tina patted her arm. “Just that you tend to have a better grasp on these things than the rest of us pitiful mortals.”</p>
<p>“It’s part of your charm,” Kurt soothed. “For the record, we switch,” he commented casually. “But Blaine likes to bottom more.” More details for them, there. But that was all they were going to get. Ever.</p>
<p>
  <em>K, honey, I think I’m traumatized.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>It’s not that bad, baby.</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>No. They brought up porn. And said that they’d use it as a teaching device instead. Help.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Oh. Oh. That’s a bad idea. A very bad idea.</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I know. So. Help.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Put the phone on speaker when I call.</strong>
</p>
<p>Kurt quickly called Blaine, waving a hand when Mr. Schue looked up and informed him that he shouldn’t be on the phone in class. “It’s an emergency, Mr. Schue,” he said, just as he could hear Blaine pick up and put the phone on speaker. “Okay boys, since you’ve decided to traumatize my man, you get to deal with me now,” he said clearly, having gained the attention of the rest of the glee club by this point. They were all staring at him, although Santana, Tina, Mercedes and Sam were looking incredibly amused. “Ah-ah-ah, I don’t care. Now listen. First of all, two weeks of dating is not long enough for you to even begin contemplating sex, so slow your roll, boys.” A few of the club members exchanged looks; they weren’t known for taking relationships slow, and their relationships had never been anywhere as strong as Kurt and Blaine’s (aside from Tina and Mike) so maybe Kurt knew what he was talking about here. “Now. You want to know how gay sex works?”</p>
<p>The room seemed to choke a bit. A few of the people there (Santana, Puck and Artie being the main ones) physically covered their mouths to hide their laughter. “I know I’m on speaker, honey,” Kurt drawled. “That’s your punishment. Why are you asking questions such as these in the common room anyway?” He listened for a moment, and then rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Anyway, the one thing that I want to point out is that you should never, ever, EVER use porn as a ‘learning device’. That’s a surefire way for someone to get hurt.” He sighed. “If you really want to learn the mechanics of gay sex, ask the nurse at Dalton. She has pamphlets that explain everything, in detail, in a way that makes sense. Blaine already told you this. Why are you pushing?”</p>
<p>There was a long pause as he listened to whatever was happening on the other side of the phone. “More embarrassing than me calling you out over speakerphone?” he asked with a chilling smile that was reflected in his tone. “There’s some good boys,” he purred, happy with whatever replies he had gotten. “Now, go finish studying. I know that you have two more finals today.” He was silent for a moment and then, “Happy, B? No more trauma? Good. Love you, baby.”</p>
<p>And then he hung up the phone, casting an amused look to the rest of the club, that were all staring at him. “What?” he asked.</p>
<p>“Dominatrix,” Sam coughed, before breaking into loud laughs. There were giggles, murmurs and a few scoffs, but nobody refuted what Sam had said.</p>
<p>Kurt rolled his eyes, seriously amused, and softly apologized to Mr. Schue, who was looking somewhere between wanting to laugh and wanting to cry. Well, after that conversation, at least his finals weren’t looking so bad anymore.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Chapter 25</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Kurt, I swear, if she tries to grab me one more time, I’m going to throw up on her shoes,” Blaine grumbled into his phone, resting his head on his knees. He was sitting against the wall of the building they were rehearsing in for the King’s Island Special, and he was feeling really, really…off. Not quite sick. Not yet but getting there.</p>
<p>“Oh, baby,” Kurt cooed. “Are you really feeling that bad?” Kurt, for his part, was hiding in the bathroom during his lunch hour. He was kind of excited about only having two more finals to take before the end of the semester. Tomorrow’s half day of school was the only thing standing in his way of having Blaine for an entire two and a half weeks. Three, really, although McKinley started up the new semester before Dalton.</p>
<p>“Maybe?” Blaine whined. “I don’t feel good…but I don’t know how not-good I feel. Does that make sense?”</p>
<p>“It probably wouldn’t to anyone else, honey,” Kurt responded. And that was true; that gift from the Fates meant that they always understood each other, no matter the language. Even when they were speaking the same language. Sometimes it was like they didn’t need to speak at all. “Have you eaten anything today?”</p>
<p>“…no.”</p>
<p>“Blaine,” Kurt said, his tone slightly disappointed. “You said you hardly ate anything yesterday either.”</p>
<p>Blaine huffed a little, shifting just a bit against his wall. “Food hasn’t sounded good lately,” he admitted. </p>
<p>“Baby, it sounds like you’re getting a bit of a stomach bug,” Kurt warned. That wouldn’t be good. They had the Warblers Christmas Movie Marathon tomorrow too. </p>
<p>“I hope not,” Blaine grumbled. He glanced up when Nick crouched next to him, frowning. He held the phone a little bit away. “What’s up?” he asked softly.</p>
<p>“Program’s gonna start soon,” Nick replied. “You okay?” He sounded concerned, which was better than what he’d been before. Both he and Jeff had been rather annoyed with Blaine for getting Kurt involved in their conversation, which had led to them being rather embarrassed in front of all the other Warblers and a few other Stanton boys. Blaine would take the concern over the glares.</p>
<p>Blaine shrugged, turning back to his phone. “I gotta go. Gotta go sing with grabby-hands McSue.”</p>
<p>Kurt laughed. “Oh B,” he sighed. “Be nice. I love you.”</p>
<p>“Love you too,” Blaine responded before hanging up. They had a habit of ending conversations that way. Something about never saying goodbye to each other. He allowed Nick to pull him to his feet, frowning when his vision went a little gray. He really, really didn’t want to be sick right now.</p>
<p>Wes gave him an odd look when he joined the others but continued talking about the program’s setup. He had been given complete control, even by the County Country Day girls, and had gotten everything under control. Blaine was singing the duet with ‘grabby-hands McSue’, but was also leading in <em>Rudolph, White Christmas, Oh Holy Night</em>, and then had a solo singing <em>Star Ng Pasko</em>, a Filipino Christmas song. He wasn’t entirely sure he could make it through the whole show though.</p>
<p>“You okay?” Wes asked softly once he was done with his diatribe. He had leaned in closer to Blaine, trying to keep their conversation private even when surrounded by a bunch of teenagers. “You’re looking a little pale.”</p>
<p>Blaine shrugged. “Not really feeling well, to be honest,” he mumbled. He ran a hand down his face, sighing tiredly. “This is only gonna be, like, two hours, right?”</p>
<p>Wes frowned at him, motioning for David. “Yeah. You think you can last?” To David, who had come over and was also frowning at Blaine, he asked, “Could you go find some Gatorade? Blainers isn’t feeling well.”</p>
<p>David swore softly and ran off in search of a vending machine. </p>
<p>“I’ll be okay,” Blaine said softly, rolling his shoulders and neck. “Can’t promise much for the movie marathon tomorrow, but today I should be good.”</p>
<p>“Kurt’s coming to the marathon, right?” Wes asked, placing a gentle hand against Blaine’s forehead, undeterred when the boy recoiled away from the touch. Blaine was feeling a bit clammy, but he wasn’t feverish.</p>
<p>“Uh…yeah,” Blaine said, looking more startled by Wes’s touch than he maybe should have. Wide-eyed and pale and just a shade from panicking, actually. “Um…please don’t touch me? Not right now?”</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Wes said, his brow furrowing as he pulled his hand back. “You sure you’re going to be okay? You’re kinda…twitchy.”</p>
<p>“I don’t feel good, and my duet partner keeps trying to grab me and I really, really just don’t want to be touched right now,” Blaine said, perhaps a little hastily.</p>
<p>“Wait,” Wes said, sounding a bit confused. “Isn’t your partner supposed to…I don’t know, be trying to evade your advances? Did you two switch parts when I wasn’t looking?”</p>
<p>Blaine rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around himself in a bit of a self-hug. “Yeah? Well, she’s convinced that all I need is a strong woman to show me what I’m missing out on by ‘insisting on this gay thing’ I’m doing,” Blaine grumbled, complete with finger quotes. He shuddered. “She’s very…persistent.”</p>
<p>David snorted a bit from behind him, causing Blaine to spin in shock. Okay, so he was a little on edge at the moment, but his awareness was a little shot with how crummy he was beginning to feel. “Sorry. I forgot that Cecelia was said to be…um…”</p>
<p>“Persistent,” Wes concluded, motioning for Blaine to take the Gatorade from David. “Drink that. Don’t make yourself sick, though. Two hours, Blainers. And then you can curl up and sleep.”</p>
<p>“Sleep isn’t good right now,” Blaine mumbled, paling a bit more. He’d had a rather graphic nightmare last night involving his and Kurt’s deaths, and didn’t really want the reminder. </p>
<p>“Okay,” David drawled softly, dark eyes going even more concerned. “Two hours and then you can curl up with a book. I know you brought one.” Because Blaine not having a book would have been the sign of an apocalypse for sure. Blaine nodded slowly, sipping at his drink.</p>
<p>And then he mustered up his show smile, straightening his back and acting as he knew he could. He made it through the show, even with trying to stay away from Cecelia. The crowd ate up the performances, loving the songs and solos (and Blaine was glad that he wasn’t the only one leading and soloing today). And by the time the two hours were up, they had had a very successful show with promises that Dalton and County Country Day could return again next year.</p>
<p>Blaine kept up his smile until they were out of sight of the crowd, and then he grabbed the back of Wes’s blazer. “You okay?” Wes asked, immediately turning to him with a concerned look.</p>
<p>“Um…” Blaine was feeling shaky and sweaty, and maybe a little faint, but his stomach was holding up fine for the moment. Maybe. He wasn’t entirely sure.</p>
<p>“Right,” Wes muttered, looking him over. “Blaine, I’m going to touch you right now, okay?” David was at his side, Nick and Jeff and Thad and Trent were hovering nearby, having noticed that something was up. Blaine just blinked at him. “Blainers. I’m going to touch you and I don’t want you to panic over it, okay?”</p>
<p>“Kay,” Blaine said with a sigh, feeling his mind settle a bit the longer he stood still. Wes reached out and felt for a fever again, frowning a bit. And then he grasped Blaine’s arms and led him towards the chairs that were set up behind the stage. </p>
<p>“Sit,” the Asian muttered. “You’re feeling a bit warm, but I don’t know if that’s a fever or not.” David held out another Gatorade, apparently having thought ahead and picked up another with the first. “Trent,” Wes called, looking over his shoulder. “Could you grab Blaine’s bag?” He turned back to Blaine. “Okay, we’re heading back to Dalton in about an hour. You stay here until then, got it? Just read your book.”</p>
<p>Blaine nodded slowly, sipping at his drink again. Really what he wanted to do was call Kurt, but he knew that his husband-boyfriend would be taking his last final right about now. So instead he pulled his book from his bag, which Trent had helpfully sat at his feet, and absently twisted his ring. The other boys all scattered for the moment, doing whatever it was that they were wanting to do. Blaine opened his book and started reading.</p>
<p>After about forty-five minutes, Wes returned and gathered Blaine up and got him to the bus. By this point, he was definitely running a low fever and was allowing Wes to manhandle him to some degree. Anyone else trying to touch him was met with wide-eyed, skittish looks, so the other boys left their lead singer to their Council head and stayed out of the way. </p>
<p>Wes went ahead and sent a text Kurt’s way, letting him know that Blaine was sick and probably wouldn’t be calling again for a while. The Senior was determined that Blaine was going to get some sleep when they got back to the dorms. Even if he had to cuddle the boy into submission.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Chapter 26</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurt stepped into Stanton Hall, shaking a large amount of snow off himself. He pulled his gloves off, looking behind him with a frown. He was trying to figure out if he and Blaine had just forgotten about the massive snowstorm that seemed to be pummeling the area, or if it hadn’t happened last time. Whatever the case, driving to Dalton had been a little treacherous and he was glad that he had made it now that the snow was coming down even harder. </p>
<p>He sent a quick text to his Dad, letting him know that he’d made it and they wouldn’t be heading home yet, and then wandered to the den, where the Warblers were all congregating for the night. He smiled at all the happy calls of greetings he got upon entering, everyone rather glad to see him, but his eyes were on the boy lying on the couch, swamped in a massively oversized red hoodie.</p>
<p>“Hi baby,” Kurt murmured, kneeling at the side of the couch and running a hand through Blaine’s hair. “How are you feeling?”</p>
<p>Blaine’s eyes slid shut at the feel of Kurt’s hand and he sighed. “Better now you’re here,” he whispered. Truthfully, he felt like crap. He hadn’t thrown up, but also hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of food for almost three days now. He had a fever, low enough that everyone (the nurse included) figured it would be better to let it try to burn itself off, and he just felt achy and dizzy and uncomfortable. </p>
<p>“Mmhmm,” Kurt hummed, obviously not believing him in the least. “I know that this morning I said I’d just bring you home, but the snow is really coming down right now and I think it would be safer to just wait out the storm,” he explained softly. Blaine frowned but nodded and then snuggled deeper into the couch and hoodie. Kurt patted his shoulder and stood, making his way to the stairs to drop off his bag in Blaine’s room. </p>
<p>He passed Wes on the way back to the den, stopping the Senior with a gentle arm. “Has he eaten anything at all lately?” he asked, and Wes sighed, knowing exactly who he was talking about.</p>
<p>“Not really. We got some soup in him last night, but even the thought of food made him turn green,” Wes answered with a shrug. “And he only got a couple hours of sleep too. Nightmares. Don’t know about what, though, just that they were bad.”</p>
<p>Kurt nodded slowly, frowning to himself. Blaine hardly ever got sick, but when he did it tended to hit him hard and fast. And this wasn’t just a cold like the one Kurt had had earlier; they didn’t really know what this was. “Right. Well, the snow’s coming down too hard for me to take him home, so I guess we’re here for now.”</p>
<p>“Cool,” Wes nodded, and the two made their way back into the den, where Steven was setting up the first movie. As was tradition, they were starting with It’s A Wonderful Life. White Christmas would be next, and then it was a free-for-all as for the order. </p>
<p>Kurt immediately climbed onto the couch, gathering Blaine into his arms and holding him close. Blaine was whispering about how cold he was, and Kurt refuted it, knowing it was the fever talking. He settled in, cuddling his husband-boyfriend closer, getting as comfortable as possible while they waited out the storm. Blaine mumbled quietly, relaxing with his head on Kurt’s shoulder, curled up in his lap like a child. It helped, sometimes, that he was so small; it was also kind of nice that he was strong enough to sling Kurt over his shoulder when he felt like it too. The best of both worlds, honestly.</p>
<p>And the other Warblers kind of marveled at how easy it was for Kurt. Any other one of them couldn’t get near Blaine without him getting entirely too skittish. Ethan had tried this morning to just pat him on the shoulder and Blaine had nearly panicked at the touch. Wes was the only one that could get close, and even then, he had to verbally warn Blaine about every movement. The boy was just too out of it from fever and overall achiness to realize that no one here wanted to hurt him. </p>
<p>But Kurt just came in and manhandled Blaine like he was used to doing so, and Blaine just melted into him and let it happen. It was…refreshing to say the least. The Warblers all loved their lead soloist to some degree, and to see him actually comfortable with someone was enough to make them happy.</p>
<p>Kurt managed to get Blaine to drink some more soup later that evening, but the snow hadn’t lightened up at all, so they were going to stay for the night. To top it off, the storm had knocked out the power, meaning that the movies weren’t really a thing anymore, and the furnace was on the fritz again, so the bedrooms had little to no heat. The den, at least, had a fireplace and with the door shut, the nineteen boys were cozy enough. </p>
<p>David had scrounged up some boardgames, and they were all playing a convoluted version of Apples To Apples mixed with Cards Against Humanity that was more chaotic than it was organized. It was, however, completely hilarious to both play and observe. Kurt was still on the couch, just watching, holding Blaine close as he slept, finally getting some rest in what had to be days of not having enough. </p>
<p>They played well into the night, finally dropping off one by one. Kurt and Blaine, unsurprisingly, were two of the first to fall asleep, if Blaine had ever been awake to begin with. Vincent and Trevor, the two youngest freshman Warblers, were the last to drop off, near three in the morning. And the snow was still falling.</p>
<p>Kurt woke with a start around six AM, feeling like he was sleeping in a furnace. And the second that thought crossed his mind, he was up and considerably more worried than he had been before. He could feel the heat rolling off Blaine, the boy’s palms scorching against his chest, even through the sweater that Kurt was wearing. Blaine was breathing heavy, his face scrunched in pain, but not waking, despite being jostled by Kurt. </p>
<p>Kurt slid out from under him, cursing repeatedly and not bothering to be quiet about it. He checked his phone for the time and saw that he had very little signal. One bar, sometimes two. The storm must still be going on. Which wasn’t good. Kurt cursed again.</p>
<p>“Kurt?” David mumbled blearily. “What’s goin’ on?”</p>
<p>“David,” Kurt turned to him, frowning, one hand resting on Blaine’s forehead despite the heat. “I need you to find me a thermometer. Now.”</p>
<p>“Wha—”</p>
<p>“Now, David,” Kurt said, turning back to Blaine. “Blaine, baby, I need you to wake up,” he murmured. Blaine didn’t, of course, just whined softly in his sleep, turning towards Kurt. Kurt bit back another curse, wondering how they’d all thought that Blaine’s fever would just magically go away. Blaine always got super sick when he managed to get sick at all. He knew this; why hadn’t he prepared for this?</p>
<p>Other Warblers were beginning to stir by this point, and David reappeared with a thermometer, which wouldn’t matter much if Kurt couldn’t get Blaine to wake up. “Come on, baby, time to wake up,” he whispered, absently noticing that David was kneeling next to him and Wes was crawling up to the couch as well. </p>
<p>Blaine blinked open his hazy eyes, staring at Kurt as though he didn’t quite knowing what was going on. Kurt managed to get him to open his mouth for the thermometer, but Blaine was not totally with him at the moment. The minute the device beeped, Kurt was pulling it free and looking at it in despair. 103.8. </p>
<p>“Shit,” he whispered, setting the thermometer down and leaning forward to rest his head on the edge of the couch. Blaine had already dozed off again, mumbling a little in his sleep, curled up in a little ball so the hoodie covered him completely. </p>
<p>“That’s really high,” Wes commented blankly. </p>
<p>Kurt swallowed heavily, glancing at his phone again. He got to his feet and strolled out the door, heading for Stanton Hall’s main door. Upon opening it, he sighed heavily, having expected the three feet of snow piled in front of him. It was still falling, too, although lightly, almost picturesque in the faint light of the sun about to rise. He wanted to cry, though, because there was no way they were getting Blaine out of here to the doctor or the hospital or anywhere that would be able to get his temperature down.</p>
<p>He had to get his temperature down.</p>
<p>Steeling himself, he walked back to the den, where half the boys were up and stirring, and half of those were standing around Blaine looking increasingly worried. “Okay. Listen up,” Kurt said authoritatively. Everyone turned to him at once and in the back of his mind he knew that Sam would be incredibly amused. “We have to get his temp down, but there’s no way any of us are going to be able to leave this building for a while. Wes, could you go get a bath ready in Blaine’s bathroom? Lukewarm, not cold.”</p>
<p>Wes left immediately, running up the stairs. And while the den was pretty comfortable, the rest of the building was freezing. Kurt turned to Eric and Ethan, two of the Seniors. “Do you two know if there are any other boys staying in the other buildings? If so, they may want to try and join us here; everyone in one place and all that.” He turned to Steven and Greg. “Call the administration. See how soon the roads are going to be cleared.”</p>
<p>And then, Kurt turned to Blaine and scooped him up into his arms, frowning at how much easier it was this time as compared to last week. Blaine dropped weight scary fast when he was sick, especially considering he hadn’t been eating well. Still, Blaine was all compact muscle, so Kurt was privately pleased that he could still pick him up as easily as he could; he’d kept up with the workout routines he’d started at NYADA, building muscle that he’d never had in high school the first time around.</p>
<p>He kicked Wes out of Blaine’s room, to give the younger boy at least some privacy when he was so indisposed. And then he set about stripping Blaine and getting him into the bath. Blaine, for his part, woke immediately at the feel of the water, which despite not being cold was freezing on his fever hot skin. His flushed state brought out his scars in stark relief, white against olive skin, and Kurt absently ran his hand down a long one on Blaine’s thigh, where bones had broken through skin and surgery had lengthened the wounds to fix the breaks and insert a rod to hold everything together.</p>
<p>Kurt would probably say that this experience was in his top ten worst ones, having to listen to Blaine beg to get out of the bath but be too weak to fight Kurt on it. Kurt soothed him the best he could, murmuring words of comfort, willing his love to engulf his husband-boyfriend, waiting for the water to cool and hopefully taking Blaine’s fever with it. </p>
<p>By the time he had Blaine’s fever down by two degrees, and the tenor was dressed in warm sweats and bundled in a blanket, the other Warblers had tracked down some fever reducers. Kurt forced Blaine into taking some and he fell back into a restless sleep. At least this time Kurt wasn’t as concerned about him boiling his brain via fever, as the thermometer agreed that he was now at 101.4, which was low enough for the moment. </p>
<p>Apparently, a few of the Warblers, the younger ones mostly, had panicked when Kurt had carted Blaine up the stairs. (He’d looked dead, they said, lying limp in Kurt’s arms with his head thrown back and his arm dangling and his lips slightly more blue than pink. It’d been a particularly terrifying sight for everyone involved, even Kurt, although he’d been focused more on other things at that moment.) Wes, David and Thad, being the Council, had had their hands full in keeping everyone calm and getting breakfast into them. The fact that everyone was completely exhausted on top of that, due to having stayed up far too late only to be woken by what surmounted to an emergency, did not help matters. Eric and Ethan had managed to confirm that there were no boys staying in Weston or Cleary, and that the Warblers were the only students left on the grounds. The administration, upon hearing that Blaine was incredibly sick, had upped their efforts to get the roads in the surrounding areas cleared. </p>
<p>Jeff had thrown Blaine’s oversized hoodie into the wash (located in the basement of the building, which, for the record, was freezing) and everyone was reveling in the fact that the power was back on. Someone put in one of the Christmas movies, and Nick was making up a large batch of hot chocolate. They were calm now that Blaine was back in their sights, sleeping restlessly on the couch. Kurt was hovering, tired and unsure, but calmer as well. </p>
<p>Kurt’s phone rang and he scrambled to answer it, heading out of the den and into the main living room. “Dad!” he breathed, desperate for someone older and wiser to take control for only a moment.</p>
<p>Burt immediately knew something was wrong just by that single word. “Kurt? You okay kiddo? You’re not driving are you? The roads are a mess!”</p>
<p>“I’m not driving, no,” Kurt responded, dropping into an armchair and running a hand down his face. “We’re snowed in. There’s no way any of our cars can make it out of here yet. But Dad, Blaine’s really, really sick. His fever…” He trailed off, choking suddenly on the worry that he hadn’t let overwhelm him before. </p>
<p>“How sick?” Burt asked softly.</p>
<p>“His fever was hovering at just under one-oh-four, Dad, before I managed to get it down,” Kurt murmured. “And I only knew what to do because…” Because he’d done it before, once, when they were in New York and Blaine had gotten terribly ill. Kurt had caught that illness soon after and Blaine had had to return the favor. Back when their medical insurance was pitiful, and they were living paycheck to paycheck and the only way to the hospital was to call an ambulance they couldn’t afford or take the subway.  “And we’re stuck here.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “I’m pretty sure a couple of the other boys aren’t feeling all that well now either,” he admitted, running through this morning in his mind. “Jason, Simon and Wayne were looking a little green earlier.”</p>
<p>Burt breathed for a moment, clearly thinking things through. “Okay, look. How many boys are stuck at the school?” he asked, his gruff voice calm and soothing and everything Kurt needed at that moment. </p>
<p>“Nineteen including me,” Kurt responded instantly. Eighteen Warblers, and himself. </p>
<p>Burt hummed. “Okay. I have six tow trucks that can make it through the snow. Let me call the guys and see if we can get some volunteers to get you kids home. Can you have them sort into groups of where they live? Who’s closest to whom and all that?” he asked, and Kurt could just see him running a hand over his bald head. </p>
<p>“Yeah,” Kurt breathed. The tow-trucks; he hadn’t thought of that. They were built to be able to withstand any kind of weather short of a tornado. And with the snow finally stopping it would make things even easier. Usually only one or two were used at a time, but his father had always believed in being prepared, and had managed to gather up a good half dozen over the years. “Yeah, but are you sure? Christmas is on Saturday, are the guys really going to want to be driving all over the place dropping off teenagers?”</p>
<p>“As you said, Christmas is on Saturday, and if we wait for the cities to get the roads cleared, you boys are all going to be stuck there until New Years. And we need to get Blaine home to Carole at the very least. That fever was really high. He’s okay now?”</p>
<p>“For now,” Kurt answered. He was rather impressed that his father hadn’t said that they needed to get Blaine to the hospital. Kurt had told him, just in passing long ago, how much Blaine hated the hospital. How it made him anxious and brought back terrible memories. That Burt had remembered meant a lot to Kurt.</p>
<p>“Let me call the guys. You organize the boys. Six groups. I’ll call you back.” Burt hung up then, clearly focused on organizing a rescue party for the boys to get them home to their families. </p>
<p>Kurt stood, breathing easier and clapped his hands. They had a plan, now, and he needed to get them ready for it. He stepped back into the den. “Alright boys, my Dad is planning on trying to get us all home.”</p>
<p>“How?” Greg asked, slumping back in his chair. “I called my parents but they’re saying that only emergency vehicles are allowed out on the road right now.”</p>
<p>Kurt raised his eyebrows, stopping by the couch and checking Blaine’s fever. Still low, thankfully. Blaine whined softly, turning into the coolness of Kurt’s hand, groggily looking up at him. “My dad is a mechanic. He has a fleet of emergency vehicles that can handle the snow. I need you guys to figure out who lives closest to whom and split up into six different groups. Dad’s trying to see if he can get five other guys to drive out here.”</p>
<p>It was an interesting conversation from that point out. It turned out that Blaine actually lived the furthest out, out in Westerville, but that didn’t matter much since he was coming home with Kurt. Jeff and Wes lived the closest to Kurt himself, David about fifteen minutes out from Wes, but in the same direction. Most of the boys lived fairly close to Dalton and Kurt knew that wasn’t a common thing for the school, really, because this school played to the rich and the wealthy and the influential, so they had students from all over the country boarding here. It just so happened that most of the Warblers were from local areas. Or, at least, their families owned homes locally that they were using for the holidays.</p>
<p>By the time Burt called back, having gotten five volunteers to help cart the boys around, Kurt had gotten everyone packed and ready to go. Wayne was definitely running a fever at this point, and it was concluded that whatever Blaine had was probably contagious and they all needed to get home and away from the boy. Blaine, for the record, had been bundled up in his now-clean oversized hoodie and wasn’t all that coherent anyway. </p>
<p>The boys were all incredibly thankful to the mechanics for being willing to risk driving on the roads, just so they wouldn’t be stuck at the dorms. Especially since the dorms seemed to still be dealing with a faulty furnace. Burt made the point to call the administration, firstly to let them know that they had the boys covered, and secondly to let them know that the furnace issue was going to cause major problems if he found it wasn’t fixed. It didn’t matter that his own son didn’t attend the school, Blaine was as good as his and he worried. Also, he figured that Blaine’s grandfather wasn’t paying an arm and a leg to a school only for it to not be able to keep them warm.</p>
<p>When the six large trucks pulled into the parking lot, heaving through the snow like they were made to do so (the plow attachments on the front two making it clear that they were made to do so) the boys cheered. They’d all called their parents and guardians to let them know what was happening, that they’d all be home fairly soon. Hummel Tire and Lube was bound to get a lot of hefty donations at this point.</p>
<p>They quickly grabbed their bags and clustered into their groups. It would be a tight fit in the trucks, as they really were only built for five people at most (and, honestly, that was only three of the six, the other three only being made for three people…four if they squished), and some of the guys would be taking four or five kids home, but they’d make it work. Burt was actually in charge of taking Wes, David, Jeff, Kurt and Blaine. </p>
<p>The six mechanics were out of the trucks, bundling the kids up and getting them situated. Burt hadn’t had any problems finding volunteers among his mechanics as soon as they heard about a bunch of teenagers stranded at a school of all places. Especially with some of them being sick. Perhaps it was the Christmas spirit. (Or perhaps it was because all of his mechanics had heard about Blaine through Kurt, when said boy worked at the shop after school on the weekdays. Each and every worker at Hummel Tire and Lube had a soft spot for the Warbler, despite having never met him before.)</p>
<p>Burt himself made his way over to where Kurt was standing, cradling Blaine to him. Once upon a time, Blaine would have insisted on walking out on his own due to his pride, but now he just let Kurt bundle him up into his arms. His face was hidden in Kurt’s neck, the hoodie pulled over his head, and Burt wasn’t even sure if he was awake. </p>
<p>Kurt, for the record, didn’t seem at all bothered by Blaine’s weight. And he wasn’t. He should have been, he’d been holding Blaine bridal style for almost ten minutes straight, and having lost weight or not, Blaine wasn’t exactly light. But then Kurt remembered their wishes again. Those sappy wishes. Specifically, the one where they’d always be able to support each other, physically, emotionally and financially. </p>
<p>This was part of the physically, Kurt figured. </p>
<p>Burt ushered the boys to the warmth of the truck. Jeff took the front seat, while the other four were squished into the back, Blaine more or less lying across Kurt, David and Wes. He wasn’t awake, and Kurt was frowning lightly, with his hand pressed against the boy’s forehead. </p>
<p>“Kurt?” Burt asked, pulling out of the parking lot with a glance at his son through the rearview mirror. </p>
<p>“His fever’s getting worse again,” Kurt murmured. </p>
<p>“We’ll have him home soon,” Burt replied. They just needed to drop the other boys off first.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Chapter 27</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Blaine was watching quietly, as Finn and Kurt danced to the Christmas music. His fever had broken earlier that morning, but he didn’t quite remember that. No, what he remembered was waking up to Kurt sobbing in their bed, holding him fiercely and apologizing over and over again. </p>
<p>Blaine hadn’t understood. </p>
<p>Until Kurt had explained.</p>
<p>Kurt had thought that a lot of his PTSD had to do with the bashing, and it had. It always had, mixed in with his childhood and ongoing anxiety issues. This time around wasn’t any different, except that he was having worse reactions. Kurt thought that Blaine just wasn’t putting on too much of an act anymore. But apparently Blaine talked a lot in his fever-driven and sleepy state. Never in English, but that hardly mattered to the two of them. He’d talked about the crash that had killed the two of them, babbled really, woken up screaming a few times. He’d never told Kurt the details, because Kurt didn’t remember dying, hadn’t even been awake for it, so Blaine hadn’t wanted to burden Kurt with that.</p>
<p>Kurt, apparently, had been appalled. He hadn’t known exactly how affected Blaine had been by that crash. Blaine hated the fact that his brain had let that information go, actually.<br/>The semi had hit the passenger side of the car, killing Kurt instantly. Blaine hadn’t been so lucky. He’d died, yes, and rather quickly all told, but seeing Kurt the way he had…from what Kurt could make out, his death had been incredibly messy. </p>
<p>It broke Kurt’s heart, that Blaine had had to deal with that on top of everything else. Kurt was pretty sure he wouldn’t be functioning at all if it were him. And it made him feel guilty that he wished that Blaine had died faster, that he hadn’t had to have witnessed any of it…that they had died at the same time or hadn’t died at all. </p>
<p>Blaine, upon waking to Kurt’s cries, had cuddled him close, whispering to him, soothing him like he hadn’t been able to do in days because he’d been so ill. He couldn’t even remember how they got home from Dalton, couldn’t remember the next full day of Carole hovering over him. But that didn’t matter, because Kurt was upset, and he needed to fix it. </p>
<p>But he couldn’t make this better. Not for himself and not for Kurt. </p>
<p>He’d held him close, and Kurt was still crying when Carole had come up to check on them. He hadn’t stopped crying until Blaine insisted that they needed to get up because he was desperate for a shower and some food. That had shocked Kurt into moving, because Blaine hadn’t eaten much at all that week, and now he finally had a bit of an appetite back.</p>
<p>It was Friday. Christmas Eve. And Blaine didn’t have a lot of energy, but he appreciated Finn’s efforts to keep Kurt in good spirits. Apparently, the tall boy had only had to look at his brother to realize that something was wrong, and so the Christmas dance off had started. (And if Blaine started filming halfway through, the brothers never needed to know.)</p>
<p>Burt sat down next to Blaine, watching in amusement as his boys danced and shimmied and shook to the music, making up moves that probably should never be paired with Christmas songs, but it was all in good humor. Carole was running the washer, getting Kurt’s sheets clean so that he and Blaine would have a fresh bed to sleep in tonight. “How you feelin’, son?” he asked, glancing over to Blaine.</p>
<p>“Hmm…better,” Blaine murmured. He was sad, though. Sad that he couldn’t make Kurt feel better. Sad that he’d unintentionally broken his husband just that little bit more.</p>
<p>Kurt would tell him it wasn’t his fault. He knew it wasn’t, not really. But it didn’t matter. It still made him a little sad.</p>
<p>“Box came for you,” Burt said in response. He frowned. “Actually, three boxes.”</p>
<p>Blaine blinked at him. “Really? I was expecting one. It should be Kurt’s birthday slash Christmas present. Where are the other two from?”</p>
<p>“LA and the Philippines,” Burt replied with a shrug. </p>
<p>Blaine was silent for a long moment. “That would be Cooper and Lolo, then,” he said softly. “I didn’t give them your address, though. Sorry.”</p>
<p>Burt’s eyebrows rose. “Son, you don’t have to apologize. I have no problems with any of that. Now…Carole says that Kurt made you some food. Something called lumpia? I think?”</p>
<p>Blaine grinned, suddenly ecstatic. “Kurt!” He called happily. “You made me lumpia?”</p>
<p>Kurt smiled back at him, pausing in his convoluted dance move. “Course, honey. You need to eat, and I figured if I made some of your favorites, you’d be more willing to do so! There’s some chicken adobo as well.”</p>
<p>Blaine just grinned, all kinds of happy at that moment. He remembered spending time with Kurt, teaching him the Filipino recipes that his Lolo and Lola had taught him. His mother had more or less abandoned her heritage upon moving to the states, but Blaine had always been one to want to know more. Kurt had been more than willing to embrace the food just to make Blaine happy.</p>
<p>Blaine turned to Burt and said, quite solemnly, “I love him,” with a single nod.</p>
<p>Kurt laughed. “You just love me for my cooking skills,” he crowed.</p>
<p>“Kurt, bro, hate to tell you this, but it’s the only reason we keep you around!” Finn laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. </p>
<p>Burt rolled his eyes, chuckling softly as he got to his feet and pulled Blaine up from the couch as well. “Now, now, boys. Let’s not be too hasty. We also keep Kurt around for his organizing skills and his fashion advice.” Kurt huffed, but he was smiling, his eyes alight and blue again instead of a stormy gray, and Blaine was pleased. “Now, let’s grab some lunch.”</p>
<p>“And then Kurt can open his birthday gift,” Blaine murmured, getting a surprised look from his husband-boyfriend. He’d expected to be told he had to wait until Christmas, but Blaine had a look on his face that was just a little worrisome, so Kurt leaned in closer and nudged their shoulders together. “You should probably open it today, not with the other gifts…it might make you cry,” Blaine whispered. “I don’t really want you to cry, but…I know you. And you’ve already cried a lot today so now I’m beginning to think that maybe you shouldn’t open it at all.”</p>
<p>Kurt’s eyebrows had risen steadily throughout this explanation, wondering just what Blaine had gotten him. But he smiled softly, pulling Blaine into the kitchen behind Finn and his Dad, and then kissed him lightly.</p>
<p>Blaine hummed softly. “What was that for?” he asked once Kurt had pulled back to get the food from the fridge.</p>
<p>“Just you being you,” Kurt answered. Behind him, at the table, Finn and Burt exchanged amused looks, Finn rolling his eyes.</p>
<p>Blaine frowned, heading for the table as well. “But I’m always me. So, by that assumption, we should always be doing that, right?”</p>
<p>“Don’t push it, Blanderson,” Kurt laughed, turning to heat up the food. Blaine went through the effort of explaining he dishes to both Burt and Finn, excited about sharing it with them, and Carole wandered in from having finished making up the boys’ bed up in the attic room. </p>
<p>They shared a lovely meal, Blaine leaning tiredly against Kurt as they ate. But he was happy, now, and so was Kurt. Maybe things weren’t perfect, but they were closer to their Happily-Ever-After than they’d ever been, Blaine honestly believed that. There were always going to be road bumps, but life wasn’t an actual Fairy Tale, even if the Fates wanted it to be, so they’d work through them. </p>
<p>Burt brought in a decent sized box, one addressed to Blaine but for this house. It was marked Fragile pretty much all over the box, so Burt was being extra careful with it.</p>
<p>“Fra-Gee-Ley,” Finn smirked, reading off the box as they all got up from the table and headed to the island, where Burt had placed it down. “Must be Italian.”</p>
<p>Kurt groaned, rolling his eyes. It was a well-known fact in the Hudmel house that Kurt wasn’t terribly fond of the movie <em>A Christmas Story</em>. It wasn’t that it was a bad movie or anything, he just found it tiresome. Finn, however loved to tease him about it for whatever reason.</p>
<p>Blaine was watching him silently as he carefully opened the box. There was a lot of protective packaging, so he gently removed it, and then his eyes widened, and he covered is mouth with his hands. It didn’t stop the gasp from being heard by the others, and Burt and Carole both frowned a little. With a nod from Kurt, who was looking especially teary, Carole removed the main item from the box.</p>
<p>An antique teapot of the most delicate china, with painted on roses in a light pinkish purple. </p>
<p>Burt made a bit of a strangled noise, and Kurt couldn’t seem to make any noise at all. Silently, Carole set the teapot on the counter, and then removed the matching five cups and saucers, as well as the sugar bowl and cream jug. </p>
<p>“I know the color’s not quite right,” Blaine murmured quietly, and he had a small, sad smile on his face, “and that there are supposed to be six settings. But it was the closest I could find.” </p>
<p>Many years ago, ten-year-old Kurt had gotten terribly upset and smashed his mother’s tea set. The tea set that was nearly identical to the one in front of him now, just with roses that were slightly pinker than this one had. He’d regretted it ever since. He’d cried over that tea set for years. And Blaine had once promised that he would find a set that was as identical as he could get. He’d never managed; they didn’t have the funds for the antique market that would have held a set like that.</p>
<p>This time around, he still had his parent’s money and he could think of nothing better to spend it on than this. </p>
<p>Kurt broke down crying at that point, throwing himself at Blaine and allowing the smaller boy to just hold him. Blaine smiled softly, petting his hair, and glancing up at Burt, who was looking a little teary himself. They knew, all of them, that this tea set wasn’t the one that Elizabeth had owned, that had been given to her by her grandmother, passed down in the family for generations. But it was close, and it was a symbol of love if nothing else. </p>
<p>Finn didn’t know exactly what was going on, but he didn’t really need to. He knew, just from the reactions of Burt and Kurt, that Blaine had given his brother something very important. So, he kept his silence, watching his family with a small smile. Because those weren’t sad tears that Kurt was crying, he knew the difference. Kurt was inexplicably happy.</p>
<p>The tea set found its home in one of the china cabinets in the dining room; Carole made sure that it was easily seen and perfectly protected. It deserved nothing less.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Chapter 28</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A melding of Christmas traditions required planning, as the Hudson-Hummel family knew. Throw in an Anderson (or maybe by this point he was more Halili than Anderson, with him embracing his mother’s side of the family more than the rest) and things were even more interesting. They’d talked about it, of course, what the plans were and how things were going to work, so no toes were stepped on. At first, Blaine had stayed well out of the way, because he was just a guest, but then he’d seen a hole he could fill with a few traditions that his Lola had told him about, back when he’d been allowed to visit.</p>
<p>The night before Christmas, everyone got new pajamas and sat down to watch <em>How The Grinch Stole Christmas</em>, as was the Hudson family tradition. The fact that all the pajamas were all onesies, each one a different animal, made Kurt scowl, but he went along with it for the family’s sake. Seeing his father dressed as a cow was funny, after all, even if he himself was a unicorn. Blaine was a dolphin. (Finn had laughed and laughed over the both of them.) Carole’s had been a cute black cat, while Finn was a dog. </p>
<p>Breakfast the next morning was a Hummel tradition of cinnamon rolls and hot chocolate. Lunch would be scrounging, and it turned out that both families were used to just doing take-out for dinner. Kurt had explained that cooking a large meal had been too much work for him when he was younger, so they’d just kept up the habit of take-out. Carole hadn’t been able to bring herself to make a Christmas meal since Christopher had died. So, Blaine had offered to make some traditional Filipino dishes for them. Granted, his illness had thrown things off a little, so he had to change some plans a bit, but he could still make up a great dinner. And, with the Philippines being such a great melting pot of traditions and foods, there were some dishes that even native Ohioans would recognize.</p>
<p>But that was later. Breakfast was finished, and Finn was like the eager puppy he was dressed as, wanting to open presents. So, they piled into the living room, sitting on the window seats that surrounded the large tree. Carole made Blaine wrap up in a blanket, just to be safe since they were up against the cold windows and he was just getting over being sick. Kurt snuggled into him, and they let Finn hand out the parcels.</p>
<p>It was a lot of fun, watching everyone open their gifts. Kurt managed to get some great new clothes, and Finn had even found him a hat that he’d like. Kurt was, in a word, impressed. His parents had gotten him some new camera equipment as well, to help with building his portfolio. </p>
<p>Finn had gotten new clothes, Kurt had gotten him the latest Call of Duty game, and there were a few other odds and ends. Blaine had gotten him a book called <em>The Freedom Writers Diary</em>, as well as the DVD movie that went with it. Finn had looked confused at first (who ever thought of giving him a book?) and then he’d looked intrigued as he read the blurb on the back. Kurt gave Blaine an amused look, but he couldn’t disagree with the gift choice; Finn had been well on the way to becoming a great teacher when he’d been killed. It would be nice to get him on that track a bit faster this time around.</p>
<p>As for Blaine, he nearly burst into tears when Burt and Carole gave him a small gift which turned out to be a house key. He’d given them incredibly big hugs for that one, but they’d just waved it off with pleased smiles. Kurt had gotten him some recording equipment for his laptop, which was really nice. Finn had managed to get him a set of books he hadn’t read yet (which was a feat, considering he’d read a ton of books that hadn’t even been written yet…) and then he had the two boxes that had been shipped in. From Cooper was a long letter which he promised to read later, in the privacy of Kurt’s room, and a bunch of books—all of which were signed by the authors. The gift from his grandfather, however, nearly drove him to tears again.</p>
<p>He absently ran his fingers down the spine of the book, taking in the faded picture of a rooster on the front and the hand-written notes that were spilling out of it. “What is it, baby?” Kurt asked, leaning closer.</p>
<p>Blaine smiled at him, opening the book and showing off what seemed to be a collection of recipes from all over. Magazine cutouts, post-its with scribbled notes, carefully written recipes on pieces of paper tucked into plastic protectors. “It’s my Lola’s recipe book,” he said, his voice a little choked. He hadn’t thought he’d ever see this book again, to be honest. He hadn’t seen it since he’d last been in Manila eight—no, two—years ago.</p>
<p>Kurt blinked at him for a moment and then jumped to his feet, running off. He returned a minute later, a large three ring binder in his arms. Like Blaine’s it was filled to the brim with recipes of all kinds, hand-written, computer printouts, magazine pages. “It’s like my mom’s,” Kurt said, opening his to compare the two. </p>
<p>Burt and Carole snuggled closer, watching as the two boys went through the books, talking about their favorite recipes and memories of making them. Finn had already run off to start playing the new game Kurt had gotten him, yelling his thanks and excitement behind him. It was comfortable, warm and the perfect Christmas morning.</p>
<p>They scrounged for lunch, as was tradition, rifling through left-overs and snacks. Blaine had already pulled out one of his new books, a John Green novel that Cooper had gotten signed for him. And then it was time to start preparing dinner. Blaine worked in the kitchen, Kurt keeping him company. They just talked about simple things. They never seemed to run out of things to talk about; even when the two of them hadn’t been together in the past—the future?—they’d been able to talk to each other. They’d been best friends forever and being married, being killed, being young again, hadn’t changed that. </p>
<p>“That smells amazing,” Carole said, as Kurt and Blaine started setting the table in the dining room. Blaine didn’t have any Christmas traditions, not really, but Kurt said that they could start making their own. (They’d always just come home to the Hudson-Hummel house for Christmas before). And apparently having a formal dinner was one of those traditions they were going to start.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Blaine said with a happy smile. He bounced on his toes a little. “It’s almost done.” And it was, the main course, which had taken the longest to cook.</p>
<p>“What is it?” Burt asked, sitting at the head of the table where Kurt directed him. </p>
<p>“Lechon Manok,” Blaine shrugged. “Turbo chicken?” At Finn’s odd look he laughed a little. “Basically, it’s just roast chicken. There’s a bit more involved but that’s the easy answer.” He pointed to a few of the other dishes on the table that they’d already brought in. “That’s Menudo, and that’s Sisig. You should recognize the rest of the food, though.” </p>
<p>“This is amazing, B,” Burt said with a grin, rubbing his hands together. He didn’t miss Blaine’s pleased look at both the praise and the nickname. He hadn’t missed the shocked and tender look when he’d called him ‘son’ yesterday either. And Burt and Carole had already agreed that Blaine was family, regardless of what happened between him and Kurt in the future, hence why they’d gifted him a house key. </p>
<p>Dinner was a big success, and Carole definitely asked for the recipe for the chicken. Kurt and Blaine had made turon for dessert as well, which Finn had loved despite being told that it was mostly bananas. Burt and Carole cleaned up from dinner, since Blaine and Kurt had made it, and they all decided to watch another film together after. </p>
<p>Later that night, Blaine curled up in bed and read the letter that Cooper had sent. Kurt watched him, quietly, as he read, frowning when Blaine simply set the letter aside when he was finished, staring off into space for a moment. “Kurt?” Blaine said, and his voice was soft and choked and just a little too emotional. </p>
<p>“Yeah, baby?”</p>
<p>“I hate my parents,” Blaine said before promptly bursting into tears. </p>
<p>Startled, Kurt scrambled over to Blaine and dragged him into his arms. Blaine practically collapsed into him, hands grasping at Kurt’s clothes and burying his face in Kurt’s chest. Confused and worried, Kurt pulled the letter over and quickly skimmed through it before giving a huff and wanting to cry himself.</p>
<p>Cooper hadn’t ever told them this last time around. He’d kept to himself how their parents had so much to do with the strained relationship between the two boys. He’d never told Blaine about the letters he’d written, the phone calls he’d tried to give, the gifts he’d sent. Cooper hadn’t realized that his parents had stepped in and destroyed everything that was sent to Blaine, in an attempt to keep Blaine from ‘infecting’ his brother or some such rot. And when Blaine hadn’t reciprocated at all over the years, Cooper had given up.</p>
<p>It wasn’t until Blaine recently started reaching out again that Cooper had figured that something was up. It wasn’t until Kurt had gotten hold of Cooper’s address and sent him a letter asking what he had against his brother, that Cooper had called out his parents in an attempt for answers. </p>
<p>They hadn’t known this last time. Kurt had no idea why Cooper hadn’t said anything; maybe he hadn’t figured it out last time either and both boys had just ignored the irregularities. But whatever the case, Cooper was trying now. And he was promising that anything he sent to Blaine would be sent to the Hummels now, so that he knew that Blaine would get it. And he thanked Kurt for being there when he couldn’t be. </p>
<p>He’d also been the one to contact Blaine’s grandfather with Kurt’s address. Which was something else entirely, because Cooper had no relation to Blaine’s Lolo and really didn’t have much to do with that side of the family at all. He’d already been so much older when his father had married Blaine’s mother and Blaine was born (it had been a bit of a shotgun wedding, to be completely honest), and he didn’t really like her to begin with. So, for him to contact Gabriel Halili on behalf of his little brother meant something big.</p>
<p>Blaine tired himself out with his crying and fell asleep still holding onto Kurt. Kurt sang softly, going through a few different songs but mostly repeating <em>Blackbird</em> and <em>Somewhere Only We Know</em> as he knew those were the songs that generally calmed Blaine down.</p>
<p>He didn’t know how to fix this. He didn’t think he could. But Cooper was doing what he could, and Lolo seemed to be making strides towards something so maybe Kurt didn’t have to do more than what he was already doing.</p>
<p>And if Blaine was suspiciously quiet the next day, just remaining curled up on the couch with his books, then no one called him on it. They were, more or less, used to his quiet moods.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Chapter 29</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurt was going to die. </p>
<p>Okay, maybe he was being a little hasty and that wasn’t the best phrasing due to their past, but dang it, Blaine was going to kill him. </p>
<p>Because the boy was in a much better mood lately, having finally recovered fully from whatever that nasty fever business was, and the emotional overload of Christmas. And with school out for the next two weeks he’d shed the majority of the hair gel, had donned his glasses (the slim, wire framed ones that he’d gotten because Kurt had thought they were hot), and the eyeliner and fingernail polish were back. </p>
<p>Currently he was dressed in slim jeans and a fitted, v-neck sweater and was dancing around the room, singing along to <em>Dancing In The Dark</em> while Kurt tried to sketch. Tried being the key word there, because his husband-boyfriend was freaking <em>hot</em> and it was hard to concentrate on anything else. </p>
<p>Geez, Kurt really hoped he could find Elliot this time around because he owed the man big time for helping Blaine become more comfortable being himself. Of all the things that could have carried over from the time-travel, Kurt was glad that this was one of them. (And NYADA and NYU deserved some cookies or something, because holy heck, the boy could dance now. And it was awesome! Despite his absurd proclivity to still bouncing across the stage when not given strict choreography.)</p>
<p>Finn had flung himself down on the futon, his legs over Kurt’s lap, and was reading the book Blaine had gotten him (with a little help from Kurt when the words got a bit too confusing. But he was trying, so Kurt was proud regardless. Plus, he seemed to actually be enjoying it). Kurt, at one time, would have probably complained about the position, but frankly, he’d grown up and was much more comfortable with Finn so instead he’d just propped his sketchbook on his brother’s legs. Finn, though, was laughing at Kurt. He was being really quiet about it, but those extremely amused looks he kept shooting the smaller boy were incredibly telling.</p>
<p>And then Mike, Puck and Sam wandered up the stairs and into the room and Mike immediately started dancing with Blaine. They improvised, doing some sort of Tango/Swing combination that somehow worked with the music. Kurt just groaned, slumping sideways onto Finn and hiding his face, causing his brother to break into uproarious laughter.</p>
<p>Blaine and Mike paused, blinking at them, as Sam and Puck chuckled to themselves. “Something wrong?” Blaine asked, stretching his arms out.</p>
<p>Kurt groaned again, having glanced up just at that moment, only to catch sight of that strip of skin between Blaine’s sweater and jeans, and he dropped his head back down.</p>
<p>“Too much hotness in one room, Birdie,” Puck laughed, shaking his head and dropping to the floor next to the futon. “Princess can’t handle it.”</p>
<p>Blaine grinned a bit and shrugged. He turned back to Mike. “Hey, do you know <em>A Chorus Line</em>?” he asked, bouncing on his feet. He’d had to learn some dances from that musical back in college for a dancing exam and had been eager to see if his younger body could pull them off. The cheerleading was one thing, and he could still manage that, but he wanted to know if the dancing had stayed as well.</p>
<p>Sam pulled his phone out, wanting to capture this one on film, as Mike and Blaine talked through the opening of the musical for a moment, searching for the song on Kurt’s iPod. Kurt got his blush under control and straightened up to watch, smiling a bit. </p>
<p>There was something about having two gay guys around (and the fact that said gay guys were together) that made the rest of the guys in New Directions much more comfortable with themselves and Kurt and Blaine in general. There was no hesitation with touching, even hugging, anymore. There were fist bumps and arms slung over shoulders, nudges and pokes and all sorts of innocent touches that happened everywhere, from the safety of their homes to the hallways of the school. It was different, and Kurt was embracing it, because he liked it. He liked the changes that were happening and hoped for more, honestly.</p>
<p> Kurt didn’t know if it was because seeing him with Blaine had made them more secure in their own sexuality, or if there was another reason. Maybe it was because they’d noticed a difference between the way that Kurt and Blaine both responded to touch.</p>
<p>Kurt had always held himself back. He’d been cautious around other men, and even with the girls he’d been reluctant to initiate contact. But he’d never shied from it if it was offered. It wasn’t until the bullying started getting worse that he started withdrawing from contact in general, not allowing himself to be put in positions where people would want to touch him. </p>
<p>Blaine, on the other hand, tended to act as though he expected every touch to hurt. He flinched, recoiled or flat our ran from contact that didn’t come from Kurt. Sometimes he even shied away from Kurt, for that matter. And the other boys had noticed and almost immediately taken pains to condition Blaine to getting used to them. And touch. They were careful, but they were tactile, whether when just watching movies or dancing. It was different from the Warblers, who had noticed that Blaine hated touch and had therefore refrained from touching him. They hadn’t seemed to realize that despite his seeming hatred for it, Blaine craved contact. New Directions had.</p>
<p>Sam gave a whooping cheer when both dancers manage the high-kicks in unison, and even managed to get Puck’s jaw-drop reaction on camera as he panned over the audience for a moment. Kurt was still just smiling softly, watching Blaine dance. And then Blaine stumbled a little, falling into Mike, who caught him, the two laughing happily despite messing up. They were just dancing for fun, after all. </p>
<p>“Why do you guys film everything?” Blaine asked, still laughing as he bounced up to Sam to see what he was doing with his phone. “Like, everything you guys do is on YouTube. It makes spying very easy.”</p>
<p>Sam shrugged. “Dunno,” he grinned. “I just like keeping things to watch later. Ya’ll were awesome, by the way. I don’t know anyone else who can dance like that.”</p>
<p>Blaine shrugged, sharing a look with Kurt. “David can. Maybe Trent? I think Greg could if he tried, but he doesn’t care about dancing all that much.” Kurt’s iPod was still cycling through music, and the song <em>Animal</em> came up, making Blaine jump up and grin at Kurt.</p>
<p>Kurt rolled his eyes, pushing Finn’s legs off his lap and getting to his feet, stretching a little. And then he started singing with Blaine. They upped the flirting in the song to ridiculous levels, both of them trying to get the other to blush or laugh first. Finn was filming this time, and Puck jumped to his feet to join Sam and Mike as backup dancers, the three of them going just as over-the-top as the two singers. It made for an absurdly sexy video that had them all cracking up on watching it later. Although, they all agreed that the vocals were totally on point and that they would have Regionals in the bag if only Blaine and Kurt were on the same team.</p>
<p>Too bad they weren’t. Oops.</p>
<p>The group separated at that point, Sam and Blaine wandering off to geek out over comics or something (Kurt didn’t know and didn’t particularly care) while Puck, Finn and Mike ended up in Finn’s room for their video game marathon that they’d planned. Kurt made his way down to the kitchen, rifling through the cookbooks for a moment, his fingers lingering on Blaine’s newest addition as they’d figured his Lola’s book would be safer at the Hudmel house than it would his own. </p>
<p>“Kurt, honey?” Carole asked, wandering though with a basket full of laundry. “Are you not hanging with the other boys?”</p>
<p>Kurt smiled at her, content and happy even though he was kind of alone at the moment. “I’m not interested in playing the video games and Blaine and Sam are nerding out somewhere else,” he said, rolling his eyes fondly. “In the den, I think. I thought maybe I’d bake something.”</p>
<p>Carole eyed him for a moment. “You don’t need to do that, hon,” she said. “You can spend time with your boyfriend.”</p>
<p>Kurt just shook his head, still smiling, pulling down one of the cookbooks and flipping through it absently. “Nah. I don’t need to.” And he didn’t. He and Blaine weren’t connected at the hip so much anymore, despite loving each other more and more every day. In fact, Kurt was a little glad that they weren’t as co-dependent as they had been back in high school the first time, because otherwise they’d be having an incredibly difficult time having to be in two separate schools. And away from each other in general. Geez…that had to be the hardest part of this whole time-travel thing, having to sleep in separate beds for the majority of the week.</p>
<p>He started pulling out the ingredients for some simple cookies. “Besides, I should probably start baking for tomorrow’s party,” he said with a grin. Carole smiled in return, shaking her head and heading off with the laundry. </p>
<p>The Hudson-Hummels had offered up their house for the New Directions and Warblers New Year’s Party. Somehow, it seemed as though the Victorian had become the go-to place for all the New Directions (and Burt was now the honorary father to all of them as well. He had awesome Dad-Vibes, according to Artie even though many of them had their own fathers still) and so it just made sense to have the party there. Blaine had invited all the Warblers, but only a select few could actually make it due to previously planned family engagements. David, Wes, Nick, Jeff, Thad and Ryan would be there. Eric and Wayne said they might be able to make it. Blaine and Kurt expected chaos, to be honest.</p>
<p>Eventually, the smell of cookies had Sam and Blaine wandering into the kitchen. Sam was set to work helping to make more food for the party, while Blaine was relegated to sitting at the counter pouting. “There’s no way I’m letting you help bake, baby,” Kurt had grinned. “Not after last time.”</p>
<p>“Blow up one cake…” Blaine muttered, sticking his bottom lip out and fluttering his eyelashes. Kurt rolled his eyes, kissed him, and then returned to working. Sam just laughed and talked Blaine into continuing to read the fanfiction that the two had been reading together in the other room. Or rather, Blaine had been reading aloud to Sam. It was Star Wars fanfiction, and it totally had Kurt rolling his eyes at them. </p>
<p>Later that night, when Kurt woke from a nightmare he couldn’t even remember, Blaine tugged him downstairs and out onto the back porch, dragging a blanket with them. (They would have just used Kurt’s balcony, but Burt had forbidden them to step out on it until the railing could be reinforced, as it was old and wobbly.) Kurt was a little too shaky to realize that Blaine was far too awake to have been sleeping at all, but he appreciated the effort that his husband-boyfriend was going to in order to calm him. </p>
<p>They lived far enough on the outskirts of town that the clear sky practically shone with stars. The two of them stared up at the sky, wrapped in the blanket to protect themselves from the cold. “It’s so pretty,” Kurt whispered. “I forget how pretty the sky is here.”</p>
<p>“You can’t see the stars in New York,” Blaine murmured, resting his head on Kurt’s shoulder. They’d often sat on the roof of their building looking out over the lights of the city, though.</p>
<p>Kurt hummed softly. “I don’t know the names of any of them,” he confessed, leaning his head against Blaine’s.</p>
<p>Blaine lifted one hand out of his blanket, pointing to a cluster of stars. “You see that group right there?” he asked, smirking a little. “Those are called…stars.” He waved his hand in a mockingly mystical way.</p>
<p>Kurt poked him in the side, laughing a little when Blaine squeaked. “Don’t be an ass,” he said, although he was smiling. “For a nerd, you definitely need to learn more.”</p>
<p>“Astronomy has never really been an interest of mine,” Blaine said with a soft shrug, snuggling back into Kurt and the blanket. </p>
<p>The back door opened, and Burt stepped out, wrapping his arms around himself with a shiver. “You boys okay?” he asked tiredly, yawning a little. It was about three in the morning, after all.</p>
<p>“Sorry Dad,” Kurt murmured. “I had a nightmare. Didn’t mean to wake you up.” They’d been quiet, but the house was old, and the stairs had a tendency to creak.</p>
<p>“It’s alright. You wanna talk about it?” Burt asked.</p>
<p>Kurt shook his head, smiling sadly. “I don’t actually remember it,” he admitted.</p>
<p>Burt nodded. “Those are sometimes the worst ones,” he said. He glanced around the snow-covered yard. “Don’t stay out here too long,” he warned. “Wouldn’t want you two to freeze. Also, you need to get some more sleep. You too Blaine.”</p>
<p>“Yes sir,” Kurt and Blaine both mumbled, watching as Burt headed back inside. “I really like your dad, Kurt,” Blaine whispered, as though he were telling a secret. Kurt kissed his head, burying his head in Blaine’s curls. “I wish…”</p>
<p>“I think we used up all our wishes, baby,” Kurt said. He sighed. “We should probably get back inside. We’re mixing show choirs today and that’s going to be tiring and I know you haven’t slept at all.”</p>
<p>“My book was good,” Blaine retorted, getting to his feet and pulling Kurt with him. The two of them shivered when they entered the warm air of the house, the temperature change a bit of a shock. They tip-toed up the stairs, and back into bed, where they snuggled and slept.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Chapter 30</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chaos. It was all chaos.</p><p>And that was without involving any alcohol. Puck had balked at that, loudly, until Blaine had quite bluntly said that his family was full of stupid alcoholics and that it had only taken him getting drunk twice to realize that he was the same way, so if it was okay with Puck, there would be no booze at the party tonight. He’d been sober for over a year and he wanted to keep it that way, thank you. Puck had gone silent at that, then given Blaine a fist bump and wandered off. Blaine figured that was as good as he was going to get. No one else had complained about the lack of booze either, so either word had gotten round or no one else cared.</p><p>Still, it was pure and utter chaos for the night. Carole and Burt had managed to lock themselves away in their bedroom, which was probably for the better, as the rest of the kids were pretty much spread throughout the entirety of the ground floor. The living room had some weird karaoke and dancing going on, there was a video game battle happening in the den, board games in the dining room and food in the kitchen. </p><p>Rachel was practically stalking Wes, and the two had already gotten into multiple arguments about Regionals. And Kurt knew that she had been one of his best friends for a long time there, but for goodness sake she was difficult to handle at this age. He couldn’t even remember what had gotten her into his good graces to begin with, but geez…</p><p>The video of Mike and Blaine dancing had somehow gotten around (thank you Sam) so David and Mike were in the middle of an intense dance-off that they kept trying to pull Ryan and Blaine into. Until Brittney came in and wiped the floor with both of them. The rest of the Warblers were mixing quite happily with the New Directions, although Santana had kind of scared the majority of them. (Kurt was pretty sure Niff had disappeared to make out in some corner somewhere too…)</p><p>Kurt smiled when Blaine came over and leaned against him. While Kurt was dressed as fashionably as always in his skinny jeans, knee high boots and dark red Armani button-down shirt, Blaine was wearing fitted gray slacks, a dark turtleneck and a dark gray blazer. But his curls were only lightly gelled, and he’d gone with the eyeliner again. His nails were also painted a dark blue—Dalton blue, he’d grinned. “Hi lovely,” Blaine murmured, leaning in to kiss him. </p><p>“Hi baby,” Kurt returned, speaking against Blaine’s lips. He sighed happily. “Every time I see you like this, I feel like I should mail Elliot some cookies. That would probably freak him out though, considering we haven’t met yet.”</p><p>“Be funny, though,” Blaine grinned. </p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes. “Let’s try not to traumatize the friends we haven’t made yet,” he said in good humor. “Are you okay?” Blaine had only gotten about two hours of sleep the night before, and it was getting incredibly late as it was. Everyone was, of course, waiting for the official beginning of the new year.</p><p>“Never better,” Blaine replied, and he sounded like he actually meant it. “Cooper called. He got the part in that movie. He’ll be in Australia for the next five months or so.”</p><p>“Good for him,” Kurt said, sounding pleased. It was good to see that Blaine and Cooper were finally figuring things out. This time was working so much better than the last. </p><p>“He also said that he changed the contacts for me at school to your parents,” Blaine muttered. “Said something about how he didn’t trust ours to actually do anything if the school called.” </p><p>Kurt blinked at him in shock, and then shrugged a little. That was true, what Cooper had thought, but Kurt hadn’t thought that the man would actually do something about it. Oh well, one less thing to worry about. Tina and Mercedes came shimmying over at that moment, laughing. “Kurtie! Birdie! Come dance with us!” they called, pulling the two boys into the mess of dancers in the living room.</p><p>And when the clock ticked over into midnight, the two kissed and welcomed a new year. Kind of. A new year that they’d already lived before.</p><p>At about one in the morning, the party had died down a little. Some of the teens had dropped off to sleep, but a large number were seated in a circle in the living room, in front of the fireplace. Santana was leaning against the hearth, Kurt was leaning against the couch that Artie was resting on, Blaine was leaning against Kurt. Finn and Puck were making faces at each other across the circle, Wes and David practically cuddled on the other side of Santana. Mercedes, Tina, Quinn, Nick and Jeff were scattered among them.</p><p>“Yo, Artie, Truth or Dare?” Santana drawled when the coke bottle stopped spinning to rest on the boy. Of course they’d gotten bottled coke for the party; Blaine thought glass bottles were cool and liked to collect them (apparently he had a plan for the bottles, some sort of art project). Also, they’d all had to promise not to let this game get dirty, because Carole was sitting in the armchair in the corner, absently reading a book.</p><p>“Dare,” Artie grinned. </p><p>“Let Kurt give you a fauxhawk,” Santana said with a shrug. Artie blinked at her and then looked to Kurt who shrugged and got to his feet. The others giggled at Blaine’s tired grumbles from the loss of his pillow.</p><p>“Give me a moment,” Kurt muttered, heading for the stairs. Artie leaned down and spun the bottle, waiting for Kurt to return. “Nick, truth or dare?”</p><p>“Truth,” Nick yawned.</p><p>“Who was your first guy crush?” Artie asked, and Nick blushed. Everyone in the circle was fully aware the Nick was bisexual, but no one had ever bothered to ask that question.</p><p>“Blaine,” Nick grumbled, and Jeff started snickering. Blaine blinked at him and then softly grumbled some more, watching Kurt come back down the stairs and into the room. </p><p>Wes rolled his eyes. “Raise your hand if you’ve ever crushed on Blaine. Even just a little,” he said, raising his own hand. David’s went up as well. Santana, Tina, Mercedes, Quinn, Jeff, Puck and Kurt raised theirs, although Puck’s was mostly in jest. “See,” Wes said to Nick. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. Thad once said the boy is sex-on-a-stick and he wasn’t lying about it." </p><p>Blaine, blushing hotly, had hidden his face in a throw pillow by this point, slumping down to the ground. Kurt was laughing as he stood behind the couch and styled Artie’s hair. “Someone spin the bottle and save my man from bursting into flames, please,” Kurt requested, although he was seriously amused.</p><p>The bottle spun, and Nick looked up to Quinn. “Truth or dare, honey?” he asked with a smile.</p><p>“Dare,” she replied, flipping her hair over her shoulder.</p><p>“Dare you to put ice cubes in your pockets,” Nick said with a grin. Quinn gave him a long look and then shrugged, grabbing some ice from her cup. She slid them into her pockets, looking utterly unimpressed. But it only took about half a minute before she started squirming. </p><p>“That is seriously uncomfortable,” she complained, reaching for the bottle. “What the heck, boy,” she grumbled. She glanced at Kurt, who had taken his seat again and moved Blaine’s head to his lap. “Truth or dare, Porcelain?”</p><p>“Dare.”</p><p>“Kiss someone other than Birdie there,” Quinn grinned. Kurt’s eyes narrowed and he raised an eyebrow at her in a seriously bitchy glare. She just shrugged. “I mean, you can always forfeit but…”</p><p>He reached over and yanked her into a fierce kiss that left her sputtering in laughter a bit at the end of it. “Whoa,” she whispered as she sat back again, grinning broadly. “That wasn’t what I meant.”</p><p>“You didn’t clarify,” Kurt said primly, tangling his fingers into Blaine’s curls, where the boy was snickering at him from his lap.  He reached for the bottle, absently watching as it spun. “Puck. Truth or dare?”</p><p>“Dare,” the boy said, puffing out his chest.</p><p>Kurt laughed. “I dare you to not make any ‘inappropriate’ comments for the next two hours. At all.” Everyone laughed at that, having been fully introduced to “the Puckster” this evening if they hadn’t met him before.</p><p>Puck paled a bit but then nodded, pouting. He spun, rolling his eyes. “Cedes. Truth or dare.”</p><p>“Truth.”</p><p>Puck paused, looking over the girl and then nodded to his himself. “What’s the biggest thing you’ve ever gotten away with?”</p><p>Mercedes huffed a little, having to think about it. And then she gave a sly smile. “So, Kurt, do you remember when my cousin Georgia was trying to get into that school for a social worker’s degree?” she asked. Kurt nodded, frowning a little. Georgia had been the most homophobic person he’d met at the time, and her comments had driven Mercedes mad. “Well…I may have faked being one of her references and caused her to fail her entrance interview.”</p><p>Everyone’s jaws dropped, but Kurt just hummed to himself, nodding a little. “Probably a good thing in the long run,” he commented. “I couldn’t imagine a person like her making a good social worker.”</p><p>“True that, white boy,” Mercedes said with her usual sass. She spun the bottle and then eyed Blaine, who was gazing at her with sleepy gold eyes. She raised an eyebrow and he yawned, burrowing his head just slightly deeper into Kurt’s thighs.</p><p>“Truth,” he muttered, not even bothering to wait for her to ask.</p><p>“Why haven’t you taken my boy out on a proper date yet?” she asked.</p><p>Blaine blinked at her. “Because we live in Ohio,” he replied softly. “And Lima doesn’t even like it when you guys sing in public. And Westerville…well, I’ve only ever been on one date there and I’m considered the lucky one because I came out of it alive.” That shut up the room rather quickly.</p><p>Kurt made a soft shushing sound, lightly dragging his fingers across Blaine’s face. He watched as Blaine’s eyes fluttered shut at the soft touches almost automatically but didn’t still his movements. “Mercedes, we’ve talked about this,” he said gently, a soft warning in his voice. They’d even warned Nick and Jeff about dating in public while still in Ohio, and the two had listened. Most dates were done within the halls of Stanton Hall, or in large group settings with a lot of boys involved. Kurt and Blaine just didn’t bother with dating at all, deciding to take comfort in routines that they’d had before they’d died. </p><p>“Sorry Boo,” Mercedes muttered, watching Kurt as he gently sent Blaine into a doze with just his fingers. “Sorry, Birdie.”</p><p>“Did you just put him to sleep by touching him?” Jeff asked, pointing at Blaine a little incredulously. Kurt raised an eyebrow at him, still stroking soft patterns into Blaine’s face, neck and collarbones. “Because, I mean, that’s amazing.”</p><p>“It helps that he’s going on two hours of sleep in the past fifty,” Kurt grumbled. “Are we still playing?” he asked, glancing at the bottle.</p><p>“It was Birdie’s turn,” Tina hummed, yawning behind her hand. “And I’m getting tired. I might just bail.” She was eyeing Mike, who had fallen asleep on one of the couches with Thad and Brittney long ago. Finn chose that moment to let out a snore, proving that he’d been asleep for a while now. Everyone laughed at that one. </p><p>And slowly, they all wandered off to find places to sleep.</p>
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</div>“Man, they have like a fairy tale romance,” Quinn sighed, staring at where Blaine was sleeping contentedly on Kurt’s chest. Kurt was absently brushing his fingers through Blaine’s hair as he read a book, probably one of Blaine’s. “Everyone wants that.”<p>“I don’t know,” Tina muttered, yawning. “They’re like, always together. I’m not sure I could live like that,” she said, stretching. Not many were awake yet, the den and living room filled with sleeping teenagers, but Tina, Quinn and Mercedes were up, and Kurt was reading his book quite happily. Finn seemed to be up and about too, although they didn’t quite know where he was.</p><p>“Nah, girl,” Mercedes said with a smile. “They’re not, like, codependent.” She shrugged. “I come over on the weekends a lot and both of them are doin’ their own thing. White boy likes to go shopping with me and Birdie doesn’t like that as much, so he stays here or hangs with Sam. And Birdie really likes comics and reading and stuff, so he’s always reading or writing or something while Kurt works on other stuff. Usually in different rooms. They work well together.”</p><p>“And they never argue,” Quinn said wistfully. “It’s like they were made for each other.”</p><p>Finn laughed softly behind them, startling all three girls a little. “Never argue my foot,” he said pleasantly enough. “I live with them. They’re always arguing.”</p><p>“About what?” Tina asked, because she had never seen Blaine and Kurt disagree about anything. Ever.</p><p>Finn rolled his eyes. “They’re so domestic. Their arguments are always about who’s turn it is to do laundry, or who left what where. Or homework disputes. Or who took all the covers.”</p><p>“So…little things. But do they ever fight?” Quinn questioned, because that still made the two seem like a dream couple.</p><p>Finn shrugged. “Sure. But never in English. And if they ever get too angry, then one or the other will just walk away. And ten minutes later they always come back and talk about whatever it is until its good again. And if they get too angry again, then they walk away to cool off and come back ten minutes later.”</p><p>Their conversation had attracted the attention of a few others, namely Wes, Puck, Santana and Jeff. “Huh,” Wes said softly, scrubbing at his eyes. “That sounds like good advice. Kinda like that ‘never go to bed angry’ thing my parents always talk about.”</p><p>Jeff shrugged as well, raising his arms in a good stretch. “Yeah. My parents always say that relationships are full of compromise so…”</p><p>Finn shook his head, causing the others to all look back at him. “No. Kurt and I were talking about it. I didn’t understand everything, but he told me that a good relationship doesn’t deal with compromises, because with compromise someone always loses. A good relationship deals in collaboration.” </p><p>There was silence as the group took that in, and then slow nods. “Dude,” Puck drawled, sounding a little impressed. “When did our resident gays become our relationship gurus?”</p><p>“When it became obvious that they’re the only ones that know what they’re doing,” Santana snarked, although her eyes were soft as she looked over at Kurt and Blaine. The two on the couch were completely oblivious to the conversation going on about them, Blaine still sound asleep and Kurt still reading. </p><p>“Which is weird, all things considered,” Mercedes muttered. “This is Kurt’s first relationship.”</p><p>“Blaine’s too, kind of,” Wes yawned. He frowned slightly. “I mean, I don’t know if you can count Tyler or not, since they only ever got the one date.”</p><p>Jeff tilted his head to one side, eyes narrowing. “Alright, I know I don’t know everything regarding Blainers, but who’s Tyler?”</p><p>“Kid Birdie went to a dance with,” Puck answered. His face was unreadable as he absently picked at his nails. “Didn’t make it through the bashing like Birdie did.” They only knew the name of Blaine’s date because Finn had heard him screaming it once, during a particularly bad nightmare. And New Directions were full of gossips even if they were well-meaning ones most of the time.</p><p>Tina sighed softly. “Did Birdie actually make it through that bashing, though? I mean, we don’t know what he was like before, but…”</p><p>Wes shook his head. “I didn’t know him before either, but I can tell you that Kurt’s done wonders for him.” He shrugged. “Granted, he seemed more put together before Kurt started having him take a good look at his mental health, but he’s…more real now.”</p><p>Jeff raised his hand quietly, smirking a little. “Can I just ask, though…where does ‘Birdie’ come from?”</p><p>Santana raised an eyebrow, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “He’s a Warbler and Warblers are birds. Duh.”</p><p>Nick, who had sleepily come up during Jeff’s question, yawned a little. “Wouldn’t that make the rest of us Birdies too?” he asked, a little muffled due to having planted his face firmly in Jeff’s shoulder.</p><p>Tina rolled her eyes. “No. We only adopt one competition show choir member a year, sorry.” The others all laughed softly.</p><p>Carole came wandering though at that moment, softly calling for all those awake to head to the kitchen for breakfast.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Chapter 31</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurt kind of hated the fact that McKinley started school before Dalton. It meant that he had to leave Blaine at home alone while Carole and Burt both went to work, and he went to school. Granted, Blaine had mentioned that his parents had contacted him and expected him home for the next three days starting tomorrow, so there was that. Blaine wasn’t very hopeful about reconciling with his parents this time around, as he hadn’t ever managed to do so last time, but he still hoped that there was a chance.</p>
<p>Kurt sighed to himself, absently listening to his teacher drone on about some math formula or the other. He didn’t really care and could easily solve the problems presented to him. Math was a little important in fashion, but did the man have to make it sound so utterly boring? </p>
<p>Ugh, forget math. Kurt had more important things to think about. Namely, Blaine’s upcoming seventeenth birthday. Kurt had no idea what to get the boy, because Blaine’s gift to him had been incredibly sentimental and breathtakingly thoughtful. There was no way he’d be able to get him anything that compared, although Kurt knew that Blaine had no intentions of making it any sort of competition. Heck, Kurt could probably hand him a handmade card and he’d be over the moon that someone actually remembered him. </p>
<p>February fifth needed to be special, though, if only because Blaine had gone so long without it being so. Even the last time around, Kurt hadn’t actually learned when Blaine’s birthday was until weeks after it had passed that first time. And then the next year he’d done his best to make it something memorable. The next few years were rough, of course, but Kurt had always remembered and gotten him something, even when they weren’t dating. </p>
<p>This time, though, Kurt felt as though he needed it to mean something special. Just like the tea set meant something special to him. Something to commemorate all that they had been through. He just had to come up with something and that was proving difficult. And he couldn’t even really ask his friends, because they wouldn’t understand. Not really. Heck, they’d probably just tell him to sing to the boy, but there was so much more to life than singing. </p>
<p>Geez, things were easier when they were older and on a much tighter budget. And when gifts were more practical than sentimental. Kurt shook his head, looking down at the worksheet that had just been placed in front of him. Oh well, time to do math again.</p>
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</div>“Well, Glee was interesting today,” Kurt said into the phone, wishing that Blaine was still at home with him instead of two hours away in Westerville. “Mr. Schue flat out said that we’re going to be changing things and auditions for solos are now mandatory.”<p>“Huh. Did you scare him like you scared the rest of the school?” Blaine asked, his tone light with humor. </p>
<p>Kurt rolled his eyes, flopping backwards onto his bed. The latest issue of Vogue slid off the side of bed and thumped onto the floor, but Kurt couldn’t bring himself to care much. He’d never really liked that issue to begin with. “Nah. I just pointed out some things to him once, and maybe threatened to transfer to Dalton if things didn’t change. Lo and behold, things have been changing.” He frowned a little. “I don’t know, the adults this time around seem more…adult.” </p>
<p>“Do they?” Blaine asked, sounding a bit confused. “I mean, I don’t associate much with the teachers at Dalton. Headmaster Reynolds likes me fine, and Dean Harkney is nice, but…really, the only adults I talk to are my parents and that’s not changed at all…”</p>
<p>Kurt’s frown deepened. “I’m sorry. Is everything okay?” He was a little afraid of what spending a few days with the elder Andersons would do for Blaine’s mental health. Those two (he was loath to call them parents) had a way of chipping away at Blaine until nothing was left but the anxiety and low self-esteem. It had taken years of therapy for him to get over it the first time, and now, with his teenager brain and all the more trauma to add to it…Kurt worried.</p>
<p>“Dinner party with some business associate tomorrow,” Blaine grumbled. “They want to show me off…so long as I don’t mention anything that’s, you know, embarrassing to them or anything. So, in other words I just shouldn’t talk at all.” </p>
<p>Kurt sighed, refraining from offering apologies again. He knew that Blaine didn’t like that. “Hey, at least school starts again soon, and you can escape from your house.”</p>
<p>“There is that,” Blaine said, and Kurt could hear him nodding. “Who knew that boarding school would be the best thing to happen to me?” Kurt grunted, rummaging in his nightstand drawer for a pencil. “Other than you, of course,” Blaine added, and Kurt couldn’t help but laugh. “So…tell me what gossip is happening at school?”</p>
<p>Kurt regaled Blaine with the latest gossip that he hadn’t been privy to with being at their house for most of the break. He absently sketched while talking, smiling when he heard Blaine laugh at something he said. He was contemplating a new line of clothes, but the idea for it was a little too abstract at the moment, so he was just diddling around on his sketchpad. It took him a moment to realize that he’d drawn Blaine, but the older Blaine, from before they had died. </p>
<p>He grew quiet, staring down at the drawing, reveling in the details that he’d managed without even trying. Blaine looked so confident and sure in the drawing, looking as though he was mid-chuckle. It brought back pleasant memories, and he felt a little nostalgic. Blaine was quiet on the other end of the line, seemingly getting a sense of Kurt’s mood.<br/>“I love you, Blaine,” Kurt murmured. “Don’t you ever forget it.”</p>
<p>Blaine hummed. “I know. I love you too. And I won’t forget. I can’t. I always feel it, your love, in my chest. It’s so warm, Kurt. Just like you.”</p>
<p>“You know,” Kurt smiled, dropping his pencil onto the pad. “You’re one of the only people to say I’m warm. Most of the time I’m called an ice-queen.”</p>
<p>“Hmm, well, I can tell you that there’s nothing icy about you, mahal,” Blaine murmured. “I mean, yeah, you can be a bitch at times, but who isn’t?”</p>
<p>Kurt laughed. “Watch it, mister,” he teased. “I can’t wait for you to be able to come back here,” he muttered. “I miss you when you’re not here.” He huffed a laugh. Dalton started on Monday, and Blaine wouldn’t be back at the Hudmel home until the following weekend. It would honestly be the longest that they’d been apart for the past two or so months. “You know, the girls cornered me and asked how it is that we can have such a perfect relationship when we clearly like different things but like all the same things and spend so much time together and so much time apart and…they weren’t making much sense in their questions, to be honest.”</p>
<p>Blaine laughed, but it was a little sad. “Our relationship only seems perfect because they weren’t there for all the bad parts,” he said. Well, yeah, they had been, but that was in a different lifetime.</p>
<p>“But we learned from those, baby,” Kurt said, and while he could feel a tinge of sadness, mostly what he felt was fond gratefulness for all they had been through. “And we’re better for it, in the end.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Blaine sighed. “We are.” He took a deep breath. “Things are good, right?” he asked, a little bit of trepidation in his voice. “I mean, in general?”</p>
<p>“Yeah?” Kurt replied, tilting his head to one side. “Things seem to be working out for the better.”</p>
<p>“Mmhmm,” Blaine hummed. “I got Lolo to agree to go back to the doctor. He’s on the mend, Kurt,” he said, a little breathlessly. “I don’t want to get my hopes up but…”</p>
<p>Kurt remained silent for a moment, wanting to be just as hopeful, but not wanting to lead Blaine into it. “I’m here if you need me, baby,” he murmured. There just wasn’t anything else he could say. He ran his fingers down the edge of his sketchpad, gazing at the drawing. He had an idea for Blaine’s birthday present. He just needed to get Cooper’s help for it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Chapter 32</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*Warning for minor character death, panic attacks, self-harm, blood, and crying</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Blaine hadn’t slept in three days. It wasn’t for lack of trying but every time he closed his eyes, he woke screaming from the memories of Kurt dying. Of the bashing. Of Tyler screaming. Dreams where Tyler was replaced by Kurt. Dreams where Kurt had died in the crash, but Blaine hadn’t, and he’d been left to live alone without his husband.</p>
<p>Those hurt the most.</p>
<p>So, Blaine, after two nights of this, of waking up choking on screams and sobs, gave up and didn’t even try to sleep anymore. His friends had noticed, he was sure of it. They’d commented on his drifting. Wes had pulled Blaine’s hand from his mouth so many times in the past two days that Blaine was beginning to think that his hand had a mind of its own. </p>
<p>He’d talked to Kurt, of course. Kurt who kept sending him all his love. Kurt who was busy but so very worried. Blaine couldn’t wait until the weekend, where he could hide in Kurt’s bed and not move for an entire two days. Burt and Carole wouldn’t judge him for that. Finn might, but he’d come around. </p>
<p>And then, on Thursday, came that dreaded phone call.</p>
<p>He’d known that this was coming. He’d hoped, of course, that he could have made a change this time, but it didn’t seem like that had happened. He’d gone through this phone call before and it was nearly the same. The emotionless platitudes, the simple telling of what had happened. And then the plans for the funeral and getting him out of school so he could attend.</p>
<p>Only, that last part wasn’t happening this time.</p>
<p>Last time around Blaine hadn’t had a boyfriend. He hadn’t been seen wearing ‘disgraceful, faggy clothes’. He hadn’t been such a complete disappointment to his family that they weren’t even considering letting him go to the funeral. Blaine hadn’t told his family anything about his relationship, he hadn’t bothered talking to any of them in weeks, other than Cooper, but that didn’t seem to matter. None of them wanted him at his Lolo’s funeral.</p>
<p>None of them wanted him period.</p>
<p>Blaine dropped his phone onto the bed and…and he broke.</p>
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</div>“Yo, Hummel, dude, what’s wrong?” Puck asked, crouching next to Kurt at the back of the room. He was incredibly concerned, seeing as Kurt had huddled himself against the wall with his hands over his ears and was humming quietly to himself. The rest of the club hadn’t noticed, but Puck’s question drew their attention over.<p>Finn was at his side in an instant. “Hold up, Puck,” he murmured, grabbing his arm and dragging him back a bit. “Give him some room. Think he’s having a panic attack.” Kurt was breathing really strangely, as though he couldn’t quite get enough air in, but was still trying to hum.</p>
<p>“Panic attack?” Quinn asked softly, wringing her hands a little from where she was standing back with the other girls.</p>
<p>“We don’t have time for this,” Rachel moaned, just shy of stomping her feet. “We have to get ready for Regionals.”</p>
<p>“Shut up, Rachel,” Mercedes said, holding a finger to the girl’s face. “One more word from you and I’ll slap you so hard your children will feel it.”</p>
<p>Mr. Schue had stepped forward, level with Finn, and the two were kneeling a few feet away from Kurt. “Finn? Does this happen often?”</p>
<p>Finn shook his head. “No. Blaine gets them sometimes, though,” he replied. He’d watched Kurt talk Blaine through the attacks a couple times over the past couple months so he kind of knew what to do. He was feeling a little like panicking himself, though, on the inside. “Kurt, bro, need you to listen to me.”</p>
<p>Kurt hummed a little louder. </p>
<p>“No, sorry dude.” He knew that Kurt hated being called ‘dude’ and was using that to his advantage. Maybe it would help Kurt focus. “Kurt. Listen to me. You need to breathe. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Just like you tell Birdie. Remember? In for four.” He counted slow, drawing in a loud breath. Kurt tried to follow but choked a little. “Good. Try again. Come on.” He kept counting.</p>
<p>Behind him, the rest of the club was unconsciously following suit. Mr. Schue was watching, brow furrowed, wondering if he should get the nurse or not. Not that he really trusted the nurse, so maybe Ms. Pillsbury would be a better option. But Kurt was responding to Finn, so he’d hold off for now. </p>
<p>When Kurt’s breathing had calmed a little, Finn had him start repeating numbers back to him. Kurt usually had Blaine repeat chord formations, but Finn couldn’t remember any off the top of his head, so numbers would have to do. He was suddenly really glad that he’d asked Kurt what to do if Blaine had a panic attack when Kurt wasn’t around; he hadn’t expected to have to use that knowledge on Kurt but whatever worked, right?</p>
<p>Kurt finally slumped down the wall a bit, staring up at Finn tiredly, and Finn gave him a big smile. “You feeling better, bro?”</p>
<p>“I’m tired,” Kurt mumbled. His face was streaked with tears, and he shakily wiped them away. “Can we go home?”</p>
<p>No one asked what had caused the attack; they were a little afraid of what the answer might be. No one asked how Finn knew how to handle it. No one bothered asking if Kurt was alright, because it was clear that he wasn’t, even if he was feeling a bit better. </p>
<p>They just let Finn gather his brother up and take him home.</p>
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</div>Wes wasn’t sure what had him looking for Blaine, exactly, other than a bad feeling. Nobody had seen him since class let out, and Warblers was supposed to start soon. But Wes knew that Blaine had been having a bad week, and he was incredibly worried that his friend—his little brother in all but blood—was going to end up doing something really stupid if something didn’t give soon.<p>He wished that Blaine would just tell him what was going on. Wes was worried enough that he’d even called Kurt earlier that day, but Kurt didn’t have much to say other than Blaine’s nightmares were really bad this week. So now Wes was running up the stairs of Stanton Hall, heading for the Freshmore dorms.</p>
<p>He’d collected a lot of odd looks and some shocked yells on the way. Wes never ran anywhere; he was the model of propriety when in the school and everyone knew it. That was why he was Head Prefect of Stanton, after all. David was trailing him, Nick and Jeff just a little behind the African-American boy. Jeff was casually pushing back any others that wanted to follow, as sometimes Dalton boys wanted a little drama. </p>
<p>Wes made it to Blaine’s room in record time, but not fast enough. He was exceptionally glad that as Prefect he had a key to the room (only to be used in emergencies, remember that Mr. Montgomery) and threw open the door. Immediately he was wrestling Blaine away from the broken mirror in the bathroom, away from the blood and the glass and the shattered reflection. Blaine didn’t put up much of a fight, but Wes thought that was more because Blaine was crying too hard to be able to than any want to be held right now.</p>
<p>But Wes kept holding anyway, cradling his friend in the middle of a bedroom that looked like a tornado had passed through it. He held Blaine’s bloody hand by the wrist. He had a strange absent thought that it was probably a good thing that he hadn’t injured his left hand again, but it was a passing thought in the scheme of things. Blaine looked like he’d gone ten rounds against the mirror and lost every one of them. Wes rested his cheek against Blaine’s temple-- the boy having buried his face in the crook of the senior’s neck--and tried not to cry.</p>
<p>David was standing at the door, blocking the sight of anyone who could pass in the hall. Jeff had moved into the bathroom and was cleaning up the glass, although it sounded as though he might be crying. Nick had taken one look and had run off to grab the nurse. And probably the headmaster. </p>
<p>“I just want it all to stop,” Blaine sobbed quietly into the silence of the room. </p>
<p>Wes held him tighter, breathing deep, not caring about the blood staining his shirt or marking his face. </p>
<p>The nurse barreled into the room, the headmaster right behind her. Wes stared at them a little despondently, giving a small, sad smile. “He’d been doing so well,” he murmured, and his voice broke just a little.</p>
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</div>“Hello. This is Nurse Daney from Dalton Academy. Are you Carole Hummel?”<p>Carole frowned, holding the phone between her shoulder and jaw as she rummaged in her purse for her keys. She had no idea why Dalton would be calling her. “Yes,” she answered, a little slow, her confusion apparent.</p>
<p>“Oh good. You’re listed as the emergency contact for Blaine Anderson. There’s been an…incident.”</p>
<p>Carole froze. She didn’t know that she was Blaine’s emergency contact, but that really didn’t matter right now. “What kind of incident?” she asked, her search for her keys becoming just a little more frantic. </p>
<p>“He hurt himself,” the Nurse said delicately. “We’re not entirely sure if he meant to, but he broke a mirror with his fist…and kept punching it until a friend stopped him.”</p>
<p>“Oh god,” Carole whispered. “I’ll be there soon,” she said, finally finding her keys and throwing her purse into her car. “Do you know why?”</p>
<p>“Mr. Anderson isn’t talking to anyone at the moment,” Nurse Daney said and Carole sighed. Not talking to anyone or not speaking English?</p>
<p>“Right. I’ll be there soon. Is it okay for me to take him out for the rest of the week? Maybe a few days into next week?” she asked. </p>
<p>“Yes,” Nurse Daney responded immediately. “I think it would be best if Mr. Anderson takes some time for himself. I’ll sign him out until Wednesday. We’ll see you soon, Mrs. Hummel.” </p>
<p>Carole wouldn’t admit to speeding, but she definitely made it to Dalton faster than she ever had before. She was met outside the building by a tall, distinguished looking gentleman with graying hair, a salt-and-pepper goatee, and an expensive looking suit. “Mrs. Hummel, I presume?” he asked, giving her a gentle smile and holding out a hand. </p>
<p>She took it, shaking it firmly and not bothering to correct him on her hyphenated name. “Correct. Headmaster?”</p>
<p>“Reynolds,” the headmaster said softly, leading Carole away from the main building and over to the dorms. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. Especially as I know you’re not Mr. Anderson’s legal guardian.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Carole nodded, wringing her hands a bit. “I wasn’t aware that I was his emergency contact, actually.”</p>
<p>“Cooper Anderson called at the end of last semester and had Blaine’s contacts changed,” Reynolds said with a small smile. “He was afraid that with their parents constantly going away on business, that Blaine wouldn’t receive the attention he needed. So, he asked that your number be put down. And that of your husband’s. I was assured that you would be okay with that?”</p>
<p>Carole blinked at him, frowning. “Of course, I’m okay with it. I just wish it hadn’t had to be used,” she replied. “Where is Blaine now?”</p>
<p>“Mr. Anderson is with Nurse Daney in the main building,” Reynolds replied, holding open the door to Stanton Hall and ushering her inside. “We figured it would be best for you to collect a few of his things while he continued to rest.” </p>
<p>Carole nodded, following quietly. The Hall was oddly quiet, with the few boys hanging around in the common room just working on their homework. There were a few nods to the headmaster as he passed, and a few smiles to Carole, but no one said anything. It was a little unsettling, a bit tense. Carole suspected that word had gotten around about what had happened and everyone was being quiet out of respect, though. “And his injuries?” she asked softly, as they headed up the stairs.</p>
<p>“Mr. Anderson has had to have a total of thirty-eight stitches in his hand, as well as some more minor cuts and bruises,” Reynolds said, sounding a little sad. At Carole’s questioning look, he elaborated. “Mr. Anderson is not the only student here that deals with issues such as these, Mrs. Hummel,” he said. And that was telling, a little. Reynolds didn’t seem surprised over the source of the injuries, just sad that it had happened at all. As though he was used to seeing this all too often and was doing his best to help as much as he could. “As such we keep a staff that is fully equipped to deal with any such…incidences. On that note, is he seeing anyone for therapy?”</p>
<p>Carole shook her head, scowling a little. “His parents won’t sign off on it,” she muttered, and her anger showed through. “We’re trying to find a way around it, but we haven’t figured it out yet.”</p>
<p>Reynolds nodded, giving a soft hum. “We’ll make sure that Mr. Anderson has sessions with our counselor here on campus once he comes back. Had we known just how much he was struggling still, we wouldn’t have let him stop this year.”</p>
<p>Carole sighed, running a hand down her face for a moment, as they neared a door that was open slightly. “To be honest, he’s been doing rather well since meeting my son,” she said. She didn’t mention the fact that Blaine had admitted to being much, much worse before meeting Kurt. “He talks to us and we’ve been working through some issues with him. No one expected this.”</p>
<p>“He’s had a really bad week. Nightmares and all,” Wes said from the doorway, startling Carole a little. She turned to look at him, saw how pale he was, how his white shirt was still streaked with red, and she rushed forward to pull him into a hug. It didn’t matter that she had only met him once, over New Year’s, he was a child that needed a hug. Seventeen was still too young to be dealing with this. “And from what we can tell, the last phone call he had was from his parents. I don’t know what happened, but I don’t think Blaine actually meant to hurt himself,” Wes said softly into Carole’s shoulder.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Mr. Montgomery,” Reynolds said with a nod, ushering him back into the room. Three other boys were inside, cleaning up the mess that Blaine had made earlier. They’d already packed Blaine’s bag, being sure to remember to pack the oversized hoodie that they all teased him about. “And thank you, Mr. Thompson, Mr. Duval and Mr. Sterling.”</p>
<p>“Blaine’s gonna need a new mirror,” Nick said softly, shifting from foot to foot in the bathroom door. “But I think that’s the only thing he broke.”</p>
<p>“We’ll take care of it,” Reynolds said. “Thank you for cleaning up, boys. It wasn’t necessary but we appreciate it.” He would have had the cleaning staff come in, but David had muttered something about Blaine not wanting someone else to tackle the mess he made, so Reynolds had left the boys to it. He thought that maybe they needed a bit of closure as well. He’d be sure that the four saw the counselor too, for that matter.</p>
<p>Carole gave each of the boys a hug and then grabbed Blaine’s bag from his bed. “Thank you, boys,” she said gently, giving them smiles. “Blaine will be back Wednesday at the latest. If you wouldn’t mind gathering his homework for him, we would be very grateful.” </p>
<p>It was a quick walk back to the main building. She was led to the nurse’s office, and finally to where Blaine was curled up on a bed, his right arm bandaged from fingertip to elbow. He hadn’t changed clothes yet, but the blood had been washed from his visible skin. She smiled softly at him. “Hello, honey. Are you ready to go home?” she asked.</p>
<p>He blinked big, gold eyes up at her, not answering. Carole softly sat down on the edge of the bed and ran her fingers through his hair, crusty from gel but having broken free of its confines for the most part. “Come on, Blaine,” she murmured, prodding him just a little. “Up and at ‘em. We need to go home, and you need a nice warm shower.” Blaine nodded slowly, curling closer to her for a short moment before slowly gathering himself up.</p>
<p>Carole signed the paperwork that the nurse provided, giving Headmaster Reynolds a moment to have a hushed one-way conversation with Blaine. She assured the nurse that she knew how to care for the injuries, being a nurse herself, and then she said goodbye to both staff members and ushered Blaine out to the car. </p>
<p>She didn’t try to make him talk on the drive home. She knew that it would be futile because he clearly wasn’t in an English kind of state. She’d let Kurt deal with that, however it was that he did so. And that had been an odd occurrence, every time. She knew from Burt that Kurt only spoke English and French fluently and was somewhat conversational in Spanish. But she and her husband had watched Kurt sit through Blaine’s frantic talking in a multitude of languages, only to calmly answer back as though he had understood every word. And to see Blaine respond back in kind. They’d asked, but never gotten a straight answer, and finally had decided to let it go.</p>
<p>So, the drive was silent, and Blaine fell into a fitful sleep, slumped up against the car door. Carole pulled into the drive, sighing to herself and watching the boy for a long moment, before realizing that not only was Kurt’s car in the drive, but so was Burt’s truck. He wasn’t due to be home yet, so she wondered about that, only to see him waiting for her on the front porch. She quickly got out of the car, leaving Blaine for the moment. “Honey?” she called, coming around the car.</p>
<p>Burt stepped down the steps, heading for the drive. “Kurt had a panic attack at glee today, after school,” Burt said softly. “Finn calmed him down, but Mr. Schue called me anyway to give me a heads up.” </p>
<p>Carole frowned, glancing back at her car. “Blaine had a bit of a…breakdown after classes today. Dalton called me to pick him up. We’re his emergency contacts now, by the way. What time did you say Kurt’s attack was?”</p>
<p>“Around three-thirty I think?” Burt said, also frowning. He was looking at her car now too. “Are they seriously so in sync with each other that…”</p>
<p>Carole shrugged. “I know that Kurt’s been worried about him this week,” she murmured. “But does it really matter?”</p>
<p>“I suppose not. Need help getting him inside?” Burt asked, stepping towards the car when she nodded. Between the two of them, they managed to get him up and out of the car. But the moment they entered the house, Kurt had Blaine wrapped in a bear hug, having clearly been waiting for him despite not having been told what was going on. Carole and Burt exchanged glances but let the two boys escape into the living room, watching from the doorway.</p>
<p>Blaine had started frantically mumbling the moment that Kurt had pulled him into his arms. Kurt, for his part, was silently listening, as he usually did when Blaine got this way. And then he just leaned forward and kissed Blaine’s forehead, letting the two of them tumble onto the couch, Blaine fully ensconced in his arms, against his chest. “I can’t make this better for you, baby,” he whispered.</p>
<p>“Why does it hurt so much, K?” Blaine cried, burrowing his face in Kurt’s chest. He still wasn’t speaking in English, and to be honest, Kurt wasn’t entirely sure what language he was using. It didn’t matter, though. “I know they hate me. But they won’t just get it over with and disown me. They’re just stringing me along and I’m tired of it!”</p>
<p>“This isn’t about your parents, B,” Kurt murmured, running his hand through Blaine’s curls, grimacing a little at the feel of sticky, old gel. </p>
<p>“…no,” Blaine whispered. “Everyone dies, Kurt. Tyler, Lolo, Finn…you,” he gasped out. “And now Lolo again and I got him to go to the doctor and he was getting better. I thought that maybe this time…”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, baby,” Kurt whispered back, choking just a little on his own tears. His heart was breaking for Blaine in this moment; he knew that Blaine had been trying really hard not to get his hopes up, but it had seemed like Lolo was getting better. His death, while anticipated due to the last timeline, was still a bit of a shock. He ran a hand down Blaine’s back, absently noticing that his husband-boyfriend was still wearing his coat.</p>
<p>Blaine grasped at Kurt’s shirt, hissing softly when his injured hand refused to follow through on the motion, mostly due to the bandages. “I want to go home,” he mumbled despondently. “Back to our apartment in New York. We didn’t have much, but we had each other and that was enough. And we were happy there. I just want to be happy again.”</p>
<p>Kurt buried his face in Blaine’s hair, giving up on trying to contain his tears. “I can’t give you that, Blaine,” he says, crying just a little harder. “I wish I could, but I can’t.” Blaine whined a little, sobbing just a bit, unable to contain his sadness anymore. He just wanted to go home. He’d even take their druggie neighbor back if he could just go home again.</p>
<p>They cried for a good fifteen minutes or so before calming, and Carole stepped forward then. She’d only heard Kurt’s part of the conversation, limited as it was, and had no idea what they’d been talking about, but she knew that the boys had to get up and clean. And then some warm food and a good night’s sleep. Blaine, at least, was desperate for a good night’s sleep. She prodded them into the kitchen, where she took Blaine’s coat and laid it across the back of a chair.</p>
<p>His shirt was a loss, bloodstained and already missing part of the right sleeve where the nurse had cut it off to get to his injuries. So, she had him go ahead and take it off and started unwrapping his arm so that she could help him get it ready for a shower. Kurt winced a little at the sight of his arm, biting his lip and placing a gentle hand in the small of Blaine’s back, for both of their comfort. Something visibly loosened in Blaine’s shoulders at the touch and Carole gave Kurt a small smile over Blaine’s shoulder.</p>
<p>Each of his fingers had one or two stitches where the glass had cut exceptionally deep, and there was a longer cut on the back of his hand, across the back of his wrist, that had eight. The deepest, though, were on either side of the base of his thumb and had clearly been caused by Blaine’s teeth, and had the most stitches closing the wounds. There was a cut, further up his forearm, being held together by three stitches, but other than those, the majority of the injuries were merely scrapes and grazes. She carefully wrapped his arm in saran wrap, to keep it dry during his shower, and sent him upstairs with commands to come back down when he was done. </p>
<p>“Kurt,” she murmured, holding him back for a moment at the base of the stairs, as she had followed the two out. “Did he say anything about what this was about?”</p>
<p>Kurt sighed. “Lolo passed away. And B’s been told that he’s not welcome at the funeral so long as he continues to be such a disappointment to the family.” With that, Kurt turned and ran up the stairs after Blaine.</p>
<p>Carole sat down on the steps, staring up at where the boys had disappeared. Burt came out of the living room, frowning darkly. “I don’t know how to fix this,” she said to her husband, staring at him sadly.</p>
<p>He shrugged. “We can’t,” he grumbled, sitting down next to her. “We can’t do anything but be here.”</p>
<p>Upstairs, Kurt was quietly whispering to Blaine as he helped wash him down, clearing the dried blood from his skin and the old gel from his hair. Blaine remained silent, bracing against the wall of the shower that was just a tad too small for the both of them, eyes trained on the tile beneath him as he let Kurt do all the work. Kurt kept up his murmurs, not really paying attention to what he was saying, letting the water and the contact with Blaine calm his own heart and mind. </p>
<p>When they were clean, Kurt urged them out of the shower and dried them both off, sitting Blaine on the corner of the bed while he fetched underthings and clothes. He pulled the oversized hoodie out of Blaine’s bag as well (the bag had mysteriously appeared in the room during their shower, and Kurt suspected his father). He quickly got the two of them dressed, just in sweatpants and t-shirts for now, and holding off on the hoodie until after Carole took care of Blaine’s arm.</p>
<p>And then they were back downstairs, in the kitchen, where Carole was waiting with the first aid kit and a plate of sandwiches and mugs of tomato soup. “I’m sorry,” Blaine whispered as she tended to his arm, wrapping it carefully after applying more disinfectant. </p>
<p>Carole looked up at him, startled by both the fact that he’d spoken and by the words. “Honey, you have nothing to be sorry about,” she stated firmly.</p>
<p>“Blaine,” Burt said from where he was seated at the kitchen table. “I need you to listen to me, okay buddy?” Blaine turned a bit, focusing on Burt, but not meeting his eyes. “Forget everything your parents have ever told you. They don’t deserve to know you, let alone call themselves your parents. So, forget about them and prove everything they’ve said about you wrong. Because I truly believe that someday you’re going to be successful and happy and they’re going to be standing on the sidelines wishing they could know you.”</p>
<p>Blaine swallowed heavily and then nodded, his eyes tearing up a bit. Burt rolled his eyes, grumbling, and shuffled to his feet before pulling the boy into a rough, warm hug. Blaine didn’t even flinch a little, just threw his arms around Burt and held on.</p>
<p>Carole smiled, packing her first aid kit back up and distributing the soup and sandwiches. “Okay boys,” she said, her voice still firm. “I know it’s still early, but I think the two of you need to eat up and have an early night. Get some sleep.” She was eyeing Blaine heavily with the last comment, and he winced a little. </p>
<p>She watched as both Kurt and Blaine ate their meals, nodding happily as they finished off a good portion. She knew from experience that panic sometimes had an effect on your appetite, so she was pleased that Kurt had eaten, and she’d been a little afraid that Blaine would just stop eating altogether. He clearly hadn’t been sleeping, and he was still trying to recover the weight he’d lost from being so sick over Christmas. </p>
<p>Once they were done, she cleaned up the dishes and helped Kurt bundle Blaine into the hoodie, careful not to pull against the bandages on his arm. And then she shooed them up to the attic room. She didn’t actually expect them to go straight to bed and wouldn’t have been surprised to find them huddled on the futon watching a movie instead. But when she went up two hours later to check on them, the two were sound asleep, spooned up against each other in the bed and under a pile of blankets.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Chapter 33</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For the record, any and all Tagalog, French, German or Italian is translated using Google Translate. Spanish I ask my husband for and Japanese is from me (but only sparsely, because I suck at remembering a language I studied for six years...)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurt was at school, Carole at work, and Burt had dragged Blaine with him to the garage. They had contemplated letting Kurt have the day off school (it being a Friday and all) but in the end had decided it would be better for him to go. Besides, there was apparently a glee performance that he really didn’t want to miss out on. So, Blaine had just gone to the garage with Burt.</p>
<p>Burt unlocked the main door and trudged inside, letting Blaine look around for a moment. Blaine had been here, many times before, but never in this lifetime. The main room was actually rather large, with the front entrance being the waiting room. The back office was behind the large desk, and there was a small bathroom off to the side and the door to the staff-room down near the front of the building. The waiting area was simple, with a small couch, a collection of chairs, and a coffee table covered in magazines. </p>
<p>Burt ushered Blaine back into the back office, where there was a large desk, two armchairs against the wall with the door, and a single office chair behind the desk. The back wall was filled with filing cabinets, and the desk was messy with papers, the computer relatively new and from the look of it hardly used. “So, do you know anything about cars?” Burt asked, as Blaine quietly looked around. </p>
<p>Blaine shook his head. He really didn’t, even with a few years of living with Kurt. He honestly didn’t care much for them, other than knowing how to fill up the tank and make them go. </p>
<p>Burt smiled. “You want to learn?” Blaine shrugged a little, but the way his face scrunched up signified his dissatisfaction at the thought. Burt laughed. “Yeah, that’s a no. You any good with computers?”</p>
<p>At that, Blaine broke his silence. “A bit,” he murmured, moving a bit closer to the desk. </p>
<p>Burt sighed “Good. Maybe you’ll be better than me,” he grumbled, removing his cap to run a hand over his head. “We’ve been trying to get all of our files onto the computer, but I gotta admit, I’m a little stumped. We’ve used paper for so long, but it’s time to step into the technological age, according to Kurt. He said he’d take care of it, but honestly, he’s more useful in the garage. You want to take a look?”</p>
<p>Blaine shrugged again, but this time he looked more intrigued, so Burt let him take the chair and showed him the stack of files that he wanted handled first. It looked like contacts, repeat customers and the like. Blaine nodded to himself, chewing on his lip a bit. “Um…I might be really slow,” he said softly, holding up his right hand. The bandages stood out starkly from his dark coat sleeve, impeding his movement. </p>
<p>Burt just waved it off. “Any progress is better than what I’ve gotten done,” he said. “Now, I’ll be in the garage. Jim is at the desk this morning. In fact, come here,” he said, waving Blaine back towards the door. He opened it, and peeked out, tugging Blaine after him as he saw who he’d wanted to see. “Hey, Jim! This is Blaine, he’s going to be helping out in the office today.”</p>
<p>Jim, an older gentleman who had to be at least six foot eight and built like a truck, smiled at Blaine and held out his hand. After a moment, Blaine took it gingerly, swallowing a little at having to show his obvious injuries, covered or not. Jim, though, was gentle with the shaking. “Hey there kiddo. Blaine, as in Mini-Boss’s Blaine?”</p>
<p>Burt nodded, laughing. “Yeah. This is Kurt’s Blaine.” He nudged Blaine a little, and Blaine ducked his head, smiling a bit. “He’s had a rough week, so he’s hanging with me today.”</p>
<p>“Cool,” Jim said, drumming his fingers on the desk. “If you need anything just give me a holler, kid,” he said, and Blaine gave a short nod before disappearing back into the office. Honestly, he was usually more put together and charming, but he wasn’t feeling it today. And he’d met Jim before, and Tom and Dirk and Steven and Adam and Bentley and Sarah. All of them had liked him well enough last time, even if he didn’t care one bit about cars, so he had no problems with any of them. He’d have enough time to be charming later. </p>
<p>He could faintly hear Burt talking to Jim in the front, explaining his presence a bit more he’d guess. At least he could guarantee that they’d give him some space today. He turned on the computer and rummaged around a bit, looking at the different programs to get a feel for what was there. And then he started working on a database for the garage. </p>
<p>He worked long and hard, absently turning music on, having brought his iPod with him. He hardly noticed the time passing, because although it was boring work, it was repetitive, and he didn’t have to think too hard about it once he had the basic outline for the database set up. Burt appeared around noon, setting a sandwich on the desk and urging Blaine to eat while he went over what Blaine had managed to get done. </p>
<p>Quite frankly, Burt was impressed. (Blaine didn’t think it was all that impressive, since he was basically just repeating the same database that Kurt had set up in the last timeline, although that hadn’t happened until about halfway through Kurt’s senior year, originally, as he hadn’t had time to do it beforehand.) Burt shuffled out some more files, showing Blaine where he could find the documents for the inventory count (which desperately needed some help as they kept losing inventory without meaning to), and the files on dealers and such. Blaine nodded, still eerily quiet, but ate his lunch and then returned to work. </p>
<p>He startled slightly when the door to the office opened again, and then grinned when Kurt walked in. The door stayed open, mainly because the garage was full of gossips, and apparently Sarah and Tom wanted to see this elusive Blaine (he’d been at the garage all day but no one other than Jim and Burt had seen him). Kurt was already wearing coveralls, showing that he intended to put in some hours of work as well. “Hey, baby,” he said with a soft smile, resting his hand on Blaine’s cheek.</p>
<p>Blaine leaned into the caress with a happy sigh, completely ignoring Sarah peeking around the door. She was a tiny woman who loved to work on massive trucks. She was also an absolute sweetheart and was known to fight like a dog when threatened. “Kamusta, mahal,” Blaine breathed. </p>
<p>Kurt frowned slightly. “You still have your English?” he asked, a little worried. </p>
<p>“Yeah,” Blaine answered, blinking up at him with honey-gold eyes. “I’m okay. Just been working on the database today.”</p>
<p>“Oh hey,” Kurt grinned. “Less work for me.”</p>
<p>Blaine shrugged. “Ulitin ang ginawa mo dati,” he admitted, although reverted to Tagalog as he didn’t want to give away any time-traveling secrets. He also didn’t want to take credit for work that Kurt had put in originally, although he knew that Kurt wouldn’t really care either way.</p>
<p>Kurt shrugged. “Why fix what ain’t broke?” he asked, his fingers tangling in Blaine’s hair a bit. “I hope Dad’s planning on paying you for this,” he muttered, looking at the computer.</p>
<p>Blaine frowned at him, leaning back in the chair and resting his arm in his lap. He hadn’t even realized how much it was aching from all the typing he’d been doing. “Why? It’s not like I don’t practically live at your place rent free on the weekends,” he pointed out. “Nah. This can just be like a return favor or something.”</p>
<p>Kurt frowned at him. He could feel the eyes of Sarah and Tom and even Jim. “Honey, you don’t owe us anything for giving you a safe space.”</p>
<p>Blaine rolled his eyes, wincing a little as he jarred his arm. He glanced at it in frustration; why hadn’t he noticed how much it was hurting before? “Right. Because dealing with me is so easy,” he grumbled. </p>
<p>Kurt sighed, letting his hand drop and then he tugged Blaine out of the chair, reaching around him to lock the computer. “Come on. Let’s get you some painkillers and then you’re going to join me out in the garage while I work on that pretty little Mustang that came in earlier.”</p>
<p>Blaine’s face scrunched up. “I don’t do cars, K,” he pointed out.</p>
<p>“No,” Kurt agreed, grinning at Sarah as she scrambled away from the door. “But you do have a pretty reading voice, and Finn and I have a book that needs to be read for English Lit.” He waved to the other workers. “Blaine, this is Sarah and Tom, guys this is Blaine.”</p>
<p>Sarah, tiny enough that she could compete with Rachel, pushed some of her brown hair back into its messy bun, grinning widely. She gave a happy wave, nudging Tom, who scowled, although his blue eyes were twinkling. He was tall, not as tall as Jim, but definitely over six feet. And his forearms were as thick as a tree. There was something about this garage where all the workers were absolute sweethearts but looked like they ate nails for breakfast—Sarah included tiny frame be damned. </p>
<p>Blaine quietly followed Kurt through the door in the waiting room and down the strange hall to the breakroom (it really was a weird layout, with the breakroom being located behind the two bathrooms, only one of which accessible through the breakroom itself). He dutifully took the painkillers and Gatorade that Kurt handed him, as well as the book that Kurt pulled out of his bag. And then he followed Kurt out into the garage, pulling a swivel chair over to the Mustang that Kurt had said he was going to work on.</p>
<p>Burt was back in another bay, explaining something to Finn, who was also wearing a set of coveralls. Kurt made a motion and Burt sent Finn over, so that the two brothers could work together. Finn was still learning the ins and outs of mechanics, and Kurt was a rather patient teacher with him, so it all worked out. Blaine studied the book in his hand absently; <em>Wuthering Heights</em> was honestly one of his favorites, although he was hard pressed to say why, exactly.</p>
<p>He waited until Finn and Kurt were ready, and then started reading. They continued in this frame for a while, Blaine reading, Finn and Kurt working on the Mustang, small interruptions as questions were asked and answered. It took them a few hours to realize that the entire garage had gone silent, all the other workers quitting their conversations and working as quietly as possible to be able to listen to Blaine read. </p>
<p>He blushed deeply when he realized, ducking his head. Kurt laughed softly and cleaned up. It was time to go home for dinner. “If you like his reading voice,” Kurt called out into the garage, “You should hear him sing.” There was soft laughter from the others, and Burt clapped his hands on both Kurt and Blaine’s shoulders, grinning at Finn behind them.</p>
<p>Saturday went much the same way, with Blaine working in the office for a few hours and then reading to the rest of the garage for the remainder of the day. Kurt and Burt were under strict instructions to make sure that Blaine didn’t overwork his hand when it had become clear that he’d pulled six stitches the day before. </p>
<p>Burt had to laugh to himself when he realized that the productivity for the day had nearly doubled since Blaine had started reading, and that Finn was actually understanding the book to boot. Kurt just looked a little smug when he pointed it out.</p>
<p>They left in early afternoon, since Kurt had plans with Rachel (he was seeing if he could kick-start their fabulous relationship as he’d missed having her—older, more mature her—around) and Blaine was just going to hang out at the house and read for a while. Or write. Or something. He wasn’t sure yet, but he was feeling relatively content with life at the moment, throbbing hand or not.</p>
<p>It was about two hours after Kurt had left that Nick was suddenly coming up the stairs to the Kurt’s bedroom. Blaine blinked at him from where he was curled on the futon, reading a book (not <em>Wuthering Heights</em>, but a different one), a little confused. “Nice place,” Nick said, looking around in awe. He hadn’t been further than the ground floor of the house during the New Years Party. “Where’s the bed, though? I assume Kurt has one and he doesn’t just sleep on the futon.”</p>
<p>Blaine absently gestured to the wall behind him. “Other side,” he mumbled. “What are you doing here, Nick?”</p>
<p>“Came to drop off your homework,” Nick said with a shrug. He flopped down on the futon next to Blaine, close but not quite touching. “The teachers even included Monday and Tuesday in there, so you can get it done before coming back.”</p>
<p>Blaine nodded, setting his book on one of the side tables that Kurt had found for his room. He sighed slightly and then slumped against Nick’s shoulder. Nick smiled and didn’t move, allowing his friend to do as he pleased. “Thanks. So, you drew the short straw?” Blaine asked, not bothering to look up.</p>
<p>Nick rolled his eyes. “Dude, I volunteered,” he replied, nudging Blaine with his shoulder. “Where’s Kurt?”</p>
<p>“Out with Rachel,” Blaine answered. He paused for a moment and would have probably wrung his hands had he not known how badly that would hurt. “Um…”</p>
<p>“Are you okay, Blaine?” Nick asked, his tone going completely serious then. He could tell how nervous Blaine was having him there, but he wasn’t about to leave. Wes had been a little more than stressed the past two days, even with Kurt texting him, and Nick had promised to get full answers from Blaine. </p>
<p>Blaine shrugged a little. “I’m good at the moment,” he said honestly. “Tomorrow’s gonna suck, though,” he added. What with the funeral being tomorrow he fully expected to not be in a good headspace. Nick sighed softly, turning enough to pull Blaine into a friendly hug, practically cuddling him to his chest. “You okay?” Blaine asked softly, fighting to keep from tensing at the sudden contact.</p>
<p>“Honestly?” Nick asked, tightening his grip just a little, knowing he was pushing boundaries with Blaine but reveling in the fact that the boy wasn’t trying to get away. “No. You really scared us, Blainers.”</p>
<p>“Sorry.”</p>
<p>“No, no apologizing,” Nick said sternly. “I don’t want you to feel bad about feeling bad,” Nick said, and his face scrunched a little with that sentence, but he shrugged it off. “Just tell me that you’re getting better.”</p>
<p>Blaine was silent for a long moment, and then he gave a deep breath, relaxing fully in Nick’s arms. “I’m getting there,” he said, his voice quiet, He glanced up, golden eyes reflecting the green of his sweatshirt. “Kurt’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Nicky,” he whispered.</p>
<p>Nick nodded slowly. “I know,” he said. “If you had told me last year that I would be sitting on a couch, cuddling the ever-popular Blaine Anderson, then I would have laughed in your face,” he said. He gave a small smile. “You were untouchable, Blainers, and while it looked good on you, it wasn’t real.”</p>
<p>Blaine’s face crumbled a little and he chewed on his lip. He didn’t know what to say, and Nick seemed to sense that. But he remained silent while Blaine tried to find the words. “I was scared,” Blaine finally whispered. “It’s so much easier to act…to put up a front. I didn’t want to be real.”</p>
<p>“That’s really sad,” Nick whispered back. He’d known, of course, that Blaine had some anxiety issues. The fact that he had PTSD had explained more, but no one had quite expected Blaine to be as bad off as he actually seemed to be. He’d always seemed so put together and confident; Kurt really had made a difference and Wes, David, Nick and Jeff at least were thankful for it.</p>
<p>“For the longest time, the only thing that made me feel anything was music,” Blaine continued, quietly bearing his soul to one of his friends, and not even one of his closest friends. But he felt that maybe Nick needed to hear this, and that he needed to say it. He needed more friends than just Wes and David and Sam. And Nick and Jeff had always been dear to him, even if in the last lifetime he hadn’t let himself get too close. “And Kurt makes me feel. All the time.”</p>
<p>“And now that you’re feeling things, sometimes it gets too much?” Nick asked, and it was like he’d hit the nail on the head. Because once Blaine had left that emotionless void he’d been in before Kurt, his emotions had terrified him. He’d never felt so strongly before, and everything was a little much at times. He never wanted to go back to before, though.</p>
<p>“Sometimes,” Blaine admitted. He nuzzled closer to Nick, taking the offered comfort. Nick wasn’t as comfortable as Kurt (really, there was no comparison there) but he was warm and sturdy and there, and that was all that Blaine needed for the moment. “Thursday…I got some bad news and it was too much and…”</p>
<p>“You don’t need to explain, Blainers,” Nick murmured, absently running a hand through Blaine’s curls. It was just too easy to love this guy, Nick thought. No wonder he had nearly everyone falling at his feet without even trying. And now that he was being more himself, more vulnerable and open and real, Nick was pretty sure that the entire world would bend over backwards just to see him smile.</p>
<p>“No, I do,” Blaine muttered, and his hand moved to his mouth without him even thinking about it. He stopped though when the bandages touched his lips and Nick absently pushed it away, a habit all of Blaine’s closest friends were learning. “My grandfather was the only one in my family who actually cared about me. His funeral is tomorrow, and I’m not allowed to go because…well, because I’m me.” He shrugged lightly, feeling his eyes well up with tears but refused to let them fall. Now wasn’t the time. “It was…it was too much.”</p>
<p>Nick was silent for a long moment before murmuring, “I’m really sad for you.” Blaine froze a bit, having not expected that. He was used to people saying they were sorry, but he hated it when they did. Because why would that help? They hadn’t done anything worth apologizing for. But hearing that Nick was sad for him was actually a little liberating, and Blaine ducked his head down, fighting against the tears again. Nick continued, “I don’t want to tell you that it will stop hurting, because it won’t. But someday it will be easier to handle. The hurt will still be there, but it won’t be so strong.”</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Blaine whispered. Blaine didn’t know if Nick was specifically talking about his grandfather’s death, or if he was talking about how the rest of the family was treating him, but that didn’t much matter. The words fit for both instances.</p>
<p>Nick hummed, still holding Blaine close. “So,” he said, still quiet in the stillness of the room. “I have some news that is important to you.” Blaine didn’t comment, but he did shrug just a little. “Your room has been moved to the Top Floor, and Thad is taking over the Freshmore Hall Monitor duties.” Nick felt Blaine’s hands grasp his shirt tightly and he shook the boy gently. “Nope, uh-uh, no feeling guilty. Headmaster Reynolds is setting this up just for you and your mental health. Your room is now the one next to Wes and David and across from me. Jeff is kitty-corner to you. You still have a single, since Brandon graduated early, and Trevor moved during the break. Headmaster just thinks that it would be best to have you closer to Wes, and the rest of us if needed.”</p>
<p>“I don’t like being a burden,” Blaine muttered. </p>
<p>“Wow, okay,” Kurt said from the top of the stairs, sounding a little unimpressed. “I’m pretty sure we’ve covered that before, B. You’re not a burden, and taking help, whether asked for or not, is not inconveniencing anyone. Hi Nick.”</p>
<p>Nick blinked over at the boy, a little startled that they hadn’t heard him coming up, giving him a once over and mentally thinking that he needed to ask Kurt to go shopping with him sometime. Kurt looked amazing in his fitted slacks and Alexander McQueen shirt. “Hi Kurt. Sorry I’m cuddling with your boyfriend.”</p>
<p>“Don’t be,” Kurt shrugged with an easy grin. “Blaine needs all the cuddles he can get.” </p>
<p>Blaine glanced up at him through impossibly long eyelashes but didn’t move from his spot against Nick’s chest. “Ti sei divertito?” he asked, yawning just a bit. Italian seemed to be his go-to today. Huh.</p>
<p>Kurt smiled. “Sure did,” he answered. He brushed his fingers through Blaine’s hair and then skirted around to the other side of the wall. “Back in a bit, baby,” he muttered. </p>
<p>Nick grinned down at him. “See. I like this Blaine. Real-Blaine is better than Robot-Blaine. You were seriously too perfect before Kurt.”</p>
<p>“Never been perfect,” Blaine grumbled. He yawned again and then sat up, stretching. “Thanks, Nick.”</p>
<p>Nick shrugged, still grinning. “No problem. We’ll see you on Wednesday. Or Tuesday rehearsal if you feel like coming. We’re actually going to start discussing Regionals, since Wes finally got some information on it.”</p>
<p>Blaine paused, watching as Kurt came back around the wall. “I might be there,” he said slowly. “No promises.”</p>
<p>“Cool,” Nick said, slapping his hands against his thighs and getting to his feet. “Homework is in the bag,” he said, pointing to the bag he’d brought with him. “I’ve got to get going, but it was good talking to you Blainey-boy.”</p>
<p>Kurt, who was searching for something on his desk gave Nick a smile. “Thanks for coming by, Nick,” he said. </p>
<p>“No problem,” Nick grinned. He waved and started down the stairs. “See you guys later!”</p>
<p>Blaine waved and flopped back onto the futon, watching Kurt scramble over his desk. “You okay, tesoro?”</p>
<p>“I can’t find my calculus homework,” Kurt admitted with a sigh. “I was pretty sure I had it on my desk when I finished working on it last night but now I can’t seem to find it. And Puck was asking for help on a problem. He’s downstairs with Finn.”</p>
<p>“Ew, calculus,” Blaine said, scrunching up his face. He hated math. In fact, math and science were really the reasons why he hadn’t considered just skipping a grade and graduating with Kurt. He liked English and Music and History and all those subjects, but math had always been a trial for him, even if it wasn’t necessarily difficult. </p>
<p>Kurt rolled his eyes, planting his hands on his hips. “Yes, yes, the evils of math,” he drawled. “Do you know where my homework is, B?”</p>
<p>Blaine blinked, thinking for a moment, back to last night. He’d been reading, right here on the futon, while Kurt had worked on his homework. And then they’d gotten distracted and retreated to the bed. That had been nice. “Check under the bed,” he muttered, because he was pretty sure Kurt’s homework had been in hand when they’d been distracted.</p>
<p>Kurt flushed a little, but did as told, and there was a cry of triumph from the bedroom. “That’s…a little embarrassing,” he muttered as he came back around, papers in hand.</p>
<p>Blaine smiled, shrugging. “Finn and Puck don’t need to know,” he said. “Go do homework. And then come cuddle. I like cuddles.”</p>
<p>“I know,” Kurt said, leaning down to press a kiss to Blaine’s curls. “I’ll be back. Enjoy your book, baby.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0034"><h2>34. Chapter 34</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*Warning: Talk about suicide and suicidal ideas</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sunday started late, as Kurt purposely kept Blaine in bed, sleeping in past ten. And then, after breakfast, he bundled his husband-boyfriend up and they headed out to the cemetery. Just because Blaine couldn’t attend the funeral didn’t mean he couldn’t get some closure. And Kurt hadn’t visited his mother in this timeline yet.</p>
<p>They settled on the small bench in front of Elizabeth Hummel’s grave, under the snow-covered pine tree. “Do you think they know about the time-travel?” Kurt asked, some time after they’d talked to his mother and Blaine’s grandfather through the gravestone. </p>
<p>Blaine shrugged lightly. “I don’t know. I’d like to think they’re aware of it, at least. I mean…I know you don’t believe in God, but we know for certain that something’s out there, right? Like, the Fates and all. So…” he let the sentence die, not sure what he’d been meaning to say. It seemed enough, though, as Kurt was watching him with a fond look.</p>
<p>“B,” Kurt murmured after a moment. “I have to ask. Last time around, when your grandfather died, you left for five days, but you didn’t seem any different before or after you came back. You didn’t seem affected at all. Were you?”</p>
<p>Blaine was silent for a long moment. He licked his lips and leaned against Kurt’s shoulder, letting his eyes slide shut. “Last time around, I was still playing a part,” he murmured. “I was still trying to get my parent’s approval. I was still…pretending I was fine. Last time around, I came back to Dalton, and I pulled out my box and I wrote another letter. And I had the boxcutter in my hand because I wanted it to hurt.” He paused, swallowing. “And then you texted and asked if I wanted to watch a movie, so I packed everything up and went and watched Disney movies with you.”</p>
<p>“You fell asleep during the movie,” Kurt murmured. “I remember, because you fell asleep on me, and in your sleep, you grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. So, I let you stay the night.”</p>
<p>“Right,” Blaine said, giving a sigh. “I was very affected…I just didn’t let anyone know about it.”</p>
<p>Kurt was still except where his fingers were rubbing at Blaine’s hip, his arm wrapped securely around his waist. “B, that’s twice that you’ve admitted to wanting to kill yourself last time around,” he whispered. “Were there other times?” Blaine shrugged lightly, but Kurt wasn’t about to let this slide. He hadn’t known this about Blaine before, and it scared him a little, to be honest. “B, baby, I need to know.”</p>
<p>“That first Christmas was bad,” Blaine muttered, sinking further into Kurt’s side. “I wasn’t really <em>planning</em> anything, per se, but the thought was there. And then you called, and you called every day after that as well.” Like Kurt had known that something was wrong, and he’d wanted to check in. Kurt, for his part, remembered feeling just that way, like if he didn’t call every day then Blaine would do something stupid. “And…Valentine’s. I um…” Blaine paused, gathering his thoughts. “That guy, uh…Jeremiah? Yeah. I hardly knew him, but I thought that if I made you think that I was interested in someone else, you’d let me go. And so, I did the Gap Attack, but then you confessed anyway and I knew that I had failed and…” he shrugged again. “I had the box out again, wrote another letter. Just a note, really, a short one. And…then you and David knocked on my door and said we were going to be late to the bus to Breadstix…so, I packed up the box and I went with you.”</p>
<p>“Baby…” Kurt whispered, heart heavy. Blaine reached out and grasped his hand.</p>
<p>“I’m okay now,” Blaine murmured. “I know it’s not the answer. I’m not that low, honey.”</p>
<p>“Any other times?” Kurt asked, not allowing his tears to fall. Blaine wasn’t lying when he said he was okay; he had his moments, but he was nowhere near suicidal anymore, and Kurt knew that. </p>
<p>“Rachel’s party…um…” Blaine sighed. “I was really drunk when I kissed her, yeah, but I noticed your reaction. And I was having a really hard time anyway and I thought that maybe if I could make you angry enough, you’d forget about me and then I could…but dating her was hard because it just felt so wrong, you know?” He huffed a small laugh. “Yeah, you probably do. You dated Brittney after all.” Blaine paused and then sighed. “And after our fight in the coffee shop, I pulled out my box again. But…” his face scrunched, just a little, the tip of his nose red from the cold. “I realized that I wanted to be around you more than I wanted to die. So, I got rid of my box.”</p>
<p>“Blaine…”</p>
<p>“It wasn’t until you sang Blackbird that I let myself realize exactly why that was, but…” He shrugged again.</p>
<p>“Any other times, baby?” Kurt asked, because he recalled Blaine saying something about their first breakup, the first time his suicidal tendencies had come into conversation.</p>
<p>Blaine was silent again, staring out over the cemetery. It really was a lovely day, with crisp blue skies and fresh snowfall on the ground. Hardly anyone was coming to the cemetery in the winter, so the snow was still clean and untrodden, unlike the rest of town where it quickly went to sludge.  “Senior year was bad,” he admitted. “I’ve told you about how my parents were treating me, but the bullying at school had stepped up and the people in Glee weren’t much better and I was just waiting for you to break up with me.” Kurt made a small noise, and Blaine patted his hand. “I know. But at the time, I honestly thought that you were done with me. And I felt like everyone wanted me to die anyway, so I made some decisions with the thought that if you <em>hated</em> me then you wouldn’t miss me.”</p>
<p>“Blaine, baby,” Kurt whispered. “I would have missed you anyway.”</p>
<p>Blaine hummed. “Okay. But I came home from New York with the full intention of dying that night.”</p>
<p>“And?”</p>
<p>“And Sam was there, at my house, waiting for me. He’d already heard about my cheating—everyone had. Rachel is a really big gossip at times, especially when spite is involved.” Kurt scowled a little, because he hadn’t ever wanted his and Blaine’s business being known by everyone else, even as hurt as he’d been at the time.</p>
<p>Blaine choked up, just a little, remembering that night. “I’d already written my note, before going to New York. I had my dad’s gun in my room…my parents weren’t home, of course. I’d planned ahead, I knew what I was doing and I was pretty certain that you were going to react the way I expected. So, there was nothing to stop me, I thought. But I’d given Sam a key to the house earlier that year for whatever reason, and he’d been in my room while I was gone. And…when I got home, he just hugged me. He didn’t judge me, he didn’t ask why, he just held me.”</p>
<p>“God…” Kurt murmured, realizing how close he’d been to losing Blaine for good. “I’m baking Sam a cake,” he whispered. He didn’t wonder why Sam had never told him, because Blaine hadn’t either. “What about when I let you go the second time?”</p>
<p>Blaine shrugged, pulling back a little. “No. I was a mess, don’t get me wrong, because I couldn’t figure out what I’d done to make you not love me anymore, but it didn’t even cross my mind.” Not really, maybe in passing, but nothing concrete. He’d flunked out of NYADA because of that breakup, yes, and then run back to Ohio. But going back to Ohio had been what saved him, and Sam…Sam had been there. And, ironically, Dave. </p>
<p>“It wasn’t you,” Kurt murmured, leaning forward to press their foreheads together. That one had been all on Kurt, and Kurt’s innate fear of commitment and everything that he’d ended up going to therapy for himself. It had, in his opinion, been the absolute worst decision he’d ever made in his life, to break up with Blaine the way he had then. </p>
<p>“I know,” Blaine breathed. “I…” he didn’t know what to say. Didn’t think he had anything else to say, honestly, because he’d just confessed more in the last half-hour than he ever had to anyone outside of Dr. Schwinn back in the last timeline. And he’d only ever started seeing that therapist after he’d gotten married to Kurt. He’d had a different therapist for a year or so before the marriage but hadn’t really connected with her.</p>
<p>“If you make Sam a cake, can I lick the bowl?” Blaine asked with a shaky smile, desperately wanting to lighten the mood. He needed some levity, right now.</p>
<p>Kurt laughed, light and loose and a little bit startled. “Of course, baby. But do you think making him a cake would be like baking Elliot cookies?”</p>
<p>“No, if only because we actually know Sam right now,” Blaine replied, getting to his feet and tugging Kurt up as well. “Let’s go. I can’t feel my toes anymore.”</p>
<p>“You poor summer child,” Kurt giggled.</p>
<p>Blaine tossed him a playful frown, dragging the boy to his car. “My birthday is literally in two weeks,” he pointed out. “Therefore, I cannot be a summer child.”</p>
<p>“No, but you are a tropic baby,” Kurt shrugged, sliding into the driver’s seat and fishing out his keys.</p>
<p>Blaine shrugged. “Is Manila considered tropic?” he asked, having never really thought about it before. </p>
<p>“Yes, B,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes fondly. “The Philippines are a tropical country. Add in the fact that when you came to the US, you lived in Georgia until you were twelve, and you’re clearly a Southern baby who can’t handle the cold.”</p>
<p>Blaine pouted, slumping back into the seat. He was thankful that Kurt was willing to play along and, more or less, push aside the morbidity of their earlier conversation. “But that means more cuddles, right?”</p>
<p>Kurt laughed again, glancing over at Blaine with the biggest heart-eyes and Blaine felt himself falling in love all over again. Geez this boy. This man. This perfect human being. (Well, not perfect, because Blaine was more aware than anyone that Kurt had his flaws, but that just made him love him more.) “Of course, B. Of course.”</p>
<p>“Good,” Blaine smiled. And all was good in the world.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. Chapter 35</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurt did end up making a cake, and Blaine did end up licking the bowl. However, Kurt took the entire cake to school with him, deciding to give it to the glee class under some excuse or the other, and that he would make sure that Sam would get the biggest piece. It was easier than giving Sam the entire cake and explaining that it was because he’d saved his husband from killing himself in a life that they’d already lived and died in.</p><p>Yeah, that wouldn’t have gone over well. </p><p>The cake did, though. </p><p>Blaine was back at the garage again, although Burt had said that the database could wait until he’d gotten his homework done. Also, Kurt had ordered a scanner and some new software that would make inventory a lot easier, so they needed to wait for that to arrive. Burt had a feeling that the garage storage (along the side walls of the bays) were going to be completely overhauled before long. </p><p>Kurt, though, was in a surprisingly good mood. Yesterday had been a little rough, what with the confessions and Blaine having a bit of a breakdown later that night. But the tears had been cathartic, and Blaine had slept rather well, meaning that Kurt had slept exceptionally well. And now he was here at school, having gone through all the classes and was waiting for glee to start.</p><p>His phone dinged, and he took a look. <strong>From Cooper:</strong> <em>I tried my best. Check your email.</em></p><p><strong>From Kurt:</strong> <em>Thanks. I owe you one.</em></p><p><strong>From Cooper:</strong> <em>Nah. You’re good. Take care of him for me.</em></p><p><strong>From Kurt:</strong> <em>Always.</em></p><p>“Who you texting, Porcelain?” Santana asked, slinking over to him. Her pinky finger was link with Brittney’s, and the blond was happily humming to herself. “Your boy-toy?”</p><p>“Nope,” Kurt smiled. “His brother. B’s birthday is coming up.” He raised an eyebrow at the girl. “You seem to be happy today. Any specific reason why?” he asked, grinning a sardonic smile. </p><p>Santana narrowed her eyes. “I have a proposition for you, Hummel,” she said, and the tone of her voice made everyone in the room turn towards her. They were all a little hyper from the death-by-chocolate cake that he’d made, and drama was always good. Especially if no one was getting hurt by it.</p><p>Kurt laughed, his head thrown back. “Santana, darling, I love you,” he paused a bit, because honestly, he really did, and he didn’t think he’d ever told her that in high-school. “But I just don’t swing that way, honey.”</p><p>Santana groaned, rolling her eyes hard. “No, Ice-Queen,” she practically snarled. “I wanted to ask if you wanted to go on a double date with me and Brit. You, me, Brit and your hobbit. That way we can all be each other’s beards and actually get out without worrying about getting jumped in this stupid town.”</p><p>Kurt froze. He hadn’t been expecting that, to be honest. Santana hadn’t come out until next year, last time, and it hadn’t even been on purpose. That had all been on Finn. For her to be accepting herself so easily…</p><p>“Wait,” Artie called into the room. “You and Brit?” he asked. Brittney had broken up with him a couple weeks ago (also not following the last timeline) but hadn’t given too much of an explanation as to why. He hadn’t been too hurt, but he had wondered a little. </p><p>“You’re lesbian?” Finn asked, sounding shocked. </p><p>“Yeah? What of it?” Santana snapped, and the room collectively took a step back. She was getting defensive, and a defensive Santana was one to be wary of. “You got a problem with that?”</p><p>“No,” Finn said, raising his hands in surrender. “No problem.” He blinked, glancing at Kurt, who was frowning softly. “You’re allowed to be whatever you want to be.”</p><p>“Good,” Santana mumbled, her hard gaze sliding along the entire group. “So, Hummel?”</p><p>Kurt sighed. “To be clear, you’re coming out as gay, but you’re not ready to come out to the rest of the school or your family yet, right?” he asked, because he wanted to be sure. He wanted the rest of the club to know. She nodded and he let his gaze wander to the others. “Right. So that means that this secret stays with us, right?” he asked the group as a whole.</p><p>“Of course,” Rachel answered for all of them. They’d all heard the warning in Kurt’s voice, but none of them had thought about outing Santana or Brittney. Although, to be fair, Brittney had come out as bisexual some time ago, even if she’d never really put it to actual words. In the background, Sam grinned at Kurt, mouthing the word ‘dominatrix’ at him. Kurt refrained from rolling his eyes, giving Sam a little finger-wave instead that had the boy laughing silently.</p><p>Kurt returned his attention to the girl next to him and smiled, patting Santana’s knee from where she’d sat down. “Of course, B and I would like to go double with you and Brit. We’ll have to set something up.” Santana paused for a short second and then gave him a brilliant grin, jumping from her seat and stalking away with Brittney in tow. </p><p>There was a quiet lull in the conversations around them, and then Mercedes started humming a song. It didn’t take long before the entire group was singing, and Mr. Schue (who had been quietly observing from the back of the room) smiled to himself. </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~</p>
</div><p>Tuesday was Carole’s day off, so she spent the day with Blaine, teaching him how to bandage his stitches correctly. She didn’t go for the full-arm bandaging that he’d had for the past few days, because it was terribly difficult to do so one-handed, but she showed him some simpler ways to keep his injuries clean and covered. </p><p>Blaine had liked the idea of double dating with Santana and Brittney (and was extremely excited that their relationship was going well) but he hated the reasons for it. Kurt had too, but they made a deal to make plans with the girls for the weekend. There was a movie out that they all wanted to see, after all, and the timing was pretty good anyway.</p><p>Now, though, Blaine was walking down the hall after dropping his stuff off in his new dorm. He’d fought with Carole to be able to go to Warblers practice that night, but now that he was here, he was finding himself rather nervous. He was certain that everyone knew that he’d gone temporarily insane and destroyed his room and hurt himself, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to handle that.</p><p>Pausing outside the door to the Warbler’s practice room, he took stock of himself, frowning. He wasn’t in uniform, because he hadn’t had one at Kurt’s house, and the one he’d been wearing when he’d gotten there had been destroyed. The slacks had been bloody, his blazer hadn’t even been with him, and the shirt was beyond saving. So now he was just wearing slim dark-wash jeans, and a black quarter-sleeve shirt with red stitching. It was simple but did nothing to hide the bandages on his arm, which was a little unnerving now that he thought about it. He sighed. Oh well, fake it till you make it, right?</p><p>Actually, it was kind of a ‘no’ on that front too, because he was tired of faking it, and Nick had mentioned that they liked the real him anyway. And while he wasn’t proud of what he’d done, he wasn’t going to feel guilty about it or try to pass it off as anything that it wasn’t. So, straightening his shoulders, Blaine quietly opened the door and stepped into the room.</p><p>Practice hadn’t officially started yet – Blaine had timed it so he could make it to his dorm and back in time – so he wasn’t interrupting anything other than a conversation between the Council members when he went up and threw his arms around Wes. The room quieted, as they hadn’t actually heard him come in, but a few had noticed and quieted the others around them until the entirety of the room was silent.</p><p>Wes had been startled by the sudden hug, but returned it eagerly, careful of Blaine’s obviously hurt arm but holding him tighter than he probably ever had. “God, it’s good to see you,” he whispered into Blaine’s hair.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Blaine said softly. “Not for feeling bad, but for scaring you. I’m sorry I’ve stressed you out and made you worry. I’m sorry for…for missing rehearsals when we should be getting ready for Regionals. I’m just sorry.”</p><p>“Don’t,” Wes mumbled, pulling back from the hug and looking Blaine over. “Just tell me honestly, are you okay?”</p><p>“Yes,” Blaine said, because he was. He was okay, and while he had his moments, he knew that he would be fine.</p><p>“Okay,” Wes said, and he breathed out a sigh, stepping back completely. “Okay. Time to start rehearsal guys. We’re filming again today,” he said, a little unnecessarily, as the camera had already been set up. This would be the fifth time that they’d filmed their rehearsals, and the Christmas performance had been filmed as well. Apparently, Dean Harkney really did like showing off their choir. </p><p>Blaine settled back into position in the choir, although everyone was pretty relaxed still. “Where’s your uniform, Blainers?” Jeff whispered from behind him.</p><p>“Didn’t have one at Kurt’s, and I didn’t want to be late,” he whispered back, leaning slightly into the hand that Nick placed on his back. Touch wasn’t quite as scary when you were more used to the people touching you, imagine that. Granted, he’d known that for a while (it’d been a lesson learned from Kurt and Sam and Wes) but it took some work for it to be manageable in reality.</p><p>Wes clapped his hands, and David stepped forward with a grin. “Right, so,” David said happily. “We’ve got an outline for Regionals, but not a set theme yet. Our competition is New Directions, of course,” there were some mumbles from that one. “Vocal Adrenaline from Carmel,” groans were given with that name—Vocal Adrenaline had a bit of a reputation among the show choir world. “Starlight Singers from Springfield, Manic Minis from Maumee,” and yes, that caused the whole group of boys to break into giggles. “And the Rising Stars from Toledo.” </p><p>Thad took a step forward as well, hands clasped behind his back. “We’ve been informed that each choir will be expected to perform three pieces, and one of which will need to feature a duet.” There were murmurs at that, as they’d done very few duets over the years. Blaine smiled softly to himself, remembering what he and Kurt had done the last time around. “We’ll be holding auditions for the duet, as well as for the lead for the first song, since we’re assuming, Blaine, that you still don’t want to lead in all three?”</p><p>Blaine nodded, smiling still. “Can I make a suggestion, though?”</p><p>“No Katy Perry,” David snarked, grinning with his hands on his hips. Everyone laughed, knowing Blaine’s love for the singer…or at least her songs.</p><p>Blaine huffed, rolling her eyes. “No. I’d rather sing P!nk,” he shrugged. “But no. I was gonna say, that we should start with a group piece, one that showcases a lot of different singers instead of just one lead. And then have the duet. And then I’ll take lead on the last song.”</p><p>There was silence for a moment, and then everyone started nodding and talking among themselves. “That’s a good idea,” Wes said slowly. He nodded again. “Okay. Like David said, the theme hasn’t been set yet, so start thinking of songs that we might be able to use, and we’ll just work on everything for a bit. They said we’d get the theme in a few weeks at the latest.”</p><p>“For now,” Thad said, grinning. “New Directions has invited us to sing with them for Valentine’s Day.” Oh, yeah. Blaine had forgotten how early that had been set up. He hadn’t been thinking about it, really, what with everything going on. “So, we need to start working on some songs for that. Blaine…your deal still stands, buddy. Sorry.” </p><p>Blaine just shrugged, not all too bothered. The boys around him started discussing options for Valentines songs and he allowed himself to check out a little, not quite drifting, but not paying much attention. He was willing to sing whatever, they just needed to make the decisions.</p><p>Jeff nudged him after a moment, and he turned to look at the smiling boy. “What are you humming?” Jeff asked, head tilted.</p><p>“What?” Blaine asked, forehead scrunching. He hadn’t realized he was humming anything.</p><p>“That song?” Jeff said, shrugging a little. “What is it?”</p><p>Blaine paused, thinking back and humming a few bars again. “Oh. <em>Silly Love Songs.</em>”</p><p>There was a slight hesitation and then Jeff was turning to Nick and muttering about the song, and Nick turned to the others, and suddenly the council was working on how to piece out <em>Silly Love Songs</em>. Blaine, for his part, was trying to remember how they’d come to the song choice the first time around, but he had a feeling that it had been him humming it then, too.</p><p>Someone found the song on their iPod and they spent the rest of the rehearsal tearing it apart and piecing it back together in a cappella form. Blaine just smiled his way through the music, because, frankly, he enjoyed it.</p><p>By the time the session was over, and David was turning off the camera, they had the lead vocals worked out and most of the percussive elements. The harmonies were still a work in progress, though. Someone brought up a couple other songs, and a few of the boys were tasked with trying to tentatively piece them out before the next rehearsal. Blaine usually was one of those, but he opted out, knowing that with the added counseling that he was required to go to, he’d have a lot less time for the next few weeks. </p><p>Walking back to the dorms, David slung his arm around Blaine’s waist and sighed. “So, what’s this about wanting to sing P!nk?” he asked. “I thought for sure you’d ask for Katy Perry for Regionals.”</p><p>Blaine shrugged a little, leaning slightly into David’s hold. He shivered as they stepped into the cold of the outdoors. He hadn’t bothered with bringing a jacket from his room, since the walk to the dorm was so short, but Wes frowned at him anyway. “Kinda wanna sing <em>Raise Your Glass</em>,” he said.</p><p>Nick hummed, nodding to himself. “Could work. It’d be pretty fun a cappella, at least.”</p><p>“Depends on the theme, though,” Jeff shrugged. “I mean, it could fit a few, but it’s not a terribly inclusive song.”</p><p>Wes rolled his eyes. “We’ll see.” He grinned and started up a different conversation, leading Blaine up the stairs with the others. Blaine smiled to himself, once again incredibly thankful for his friends.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~</p>
</div><p>“Kurt!” </p><p>Kurt paused, about to leave the choir room and head to his car. Instead, he stopped and waited for Sam to catch up. The blond was looking around, watching the other glee members file out of the room, as though waiting for some privacy. “Is there something you need, Sam?” Kurt finally asked, waving Finn off when the taller boy paused beside him.</p><p>“Just wanted to talk to you for a minute,” Sam mumbled. He watched Finn walk away and then looked to Kurt again. “Okay, look. I know that Blaine was over at your place this weekend and for the past two days. I know he got there Thursday. Finn just said that he had a bad week and needed some time, but I was worried. He didn’t want to see any of us this week and I wanted to make sure he was okay.”</p><p>Kurt smiled slightly, feeling a great fondness for the boy in front of him. “He’ll be okay,” Kurt replied, his voice soft. “He did have a bad week. Needed some time for himself.”</p><p>“And you,” Sam said with a slight smile. He paused, and it was clear he was trying to find his words, so Kurt gave him time. “Was he…did he hurt himself?”</p><p>Kurt blinked at him, a little shocked. Sam shouldn’t already know Blaine well enough to be asking that question. “How…?”</p><p>“He didn’t want to be seen this weekend,” Sam replied, wringing his hands a bit. “And I’ve seen the signs before…my cousin had some mental health issues and…” He took a deep breath. “Look, Birdie has quickly become my best friend even if he doesn’t go to this school. I’m just worried.”</p><p>“He put his fist through a mirror…a couple times,” Kurt replied, blunt but with concern. Sam winced, but gave a small nod. “For the record, I’m pretty sure you’re tying with Wes for Blaine’s best friend as well, and Wes is more of a brother than a best friend.” And Kurt was actually the best-friend, but he was also Blaine’s husband, so it was different.</p><p>Sam shrugged, flashing a bit of a grin. “He gets me, ya know? Birdie doesn’t think I’m stupid.” The ‘like the other guys’ was left unsaid, but Kurt heard it anyway.</p><p>“You’re not stupid, Sam,” Kurt countered, sounding a tad disappointed. Sam winced a bit, because a disappointed Kurt was more distressing than an angry Kurt—kind of like parents, really, and that was a weird thought, wasn’t it?</p><p>“I can’t read, Kurt,” Sam countered, sounding bland and frustrated all at once.</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes. “You have dyslexia, Sam. That doesn’t make you stupid.” </p><p>“Makes me feel stupid,” Sam grumbled, and Kurt remained silent. “And Birdie doesn’t care if I go on a rant about comics or nerdy stuff or whatever, because he nerds out just as much as I do. It’s nice having a friend that gets me and actually cares. I mean, I know you care, but you just smile and nod when I start talking sometimes,” Sam said, with a smile that said he wasn’t offended by that.</p><p>Kurt smiled back. “To be fair, I just smile and nod when Blaine starts talking about the nerdy stuff too. So does he, for the record, when I start talking about cars.” He shifted his stance a little, tilting his head to one side as he studied Sam. “I’m glad you’re his friend, Sam. You’re a really good one.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Sam muttered. “So, he’s okay?”</p><p>“He will be,” Kurt replied, turning to walk out the door, Sam following him. “If you want to come by this weekend, the two of you can nerd out to your hearts’ content.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Sam grinned. “I’ll take you up on that.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is all I have written for now (actually, I have about fifty more pages of random parts). Unfortunately, I have cycled off my Glee obsession and can't get into writing this fic again yet. It will be finished, and I'll be posting chapters as I go, but don't hold your breath for any steady updates. Sorry.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0036"><h2>36. Not Quite An Update...but it is?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The rest of what I have written</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Guys, I have enough self-awareness to know that I'm likely never going to finish this fic. So, in that respect, I've decided to just give you the rest of what I have written with a few explanations as to what was going on. It's about 50 pages of stuff, here, so you should be somewhat entertained.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>(This is literally where the next chapter started)</strong>
</p><p>“There is something incredibly satisfying about having you naked in my bed,” Kurt said, staring down at Blaine. He was happy, languid and slow, his hair mussed and his glasz eyes bright and blue.</p><p>Blaine laughed, stretching, the blankets sliding down his chest to pool at his waist. The week had been incredibly long, but it was the weekend now and Blaine had returned home to Kurt. He’d been looking forward to it all week, honestly. “I love you,” he said softly, smiling up at his husband-boyfriend. After the week he’d had, he needed the constant comfort that came from being with Kurt.</p><p>He’d had to keep his dorm room door open at all times if he was in the room, except after curfew, by order of his counselor. That had led to many of the other boys dropping by at all times, which meant that he was constantly getting interrupted and bothered and had no privacy whatsoever. In the end, he’d ended up retreating to Jeff’s room to do homework, because he was able to close the door so long as Jeff was in the room with him. </p><p>And then last night, he and Kurt had had their double-date with Santana and Brittney. It had gone incredibly well, with Kurt pairing with Brittney and Blaine with Santana. They’d sat in the theater with the girls in the middle, so the two could cuddle and all, and the boys flanking them. (There was already a promise that the next film the four went to, they would switch and let the boys sit in the middle.) At Breadstix, they’d sat in their fake pairs, facing their real dates across the table. Kurt had, actually, been both amused and surprised at how well Blaine and Santana had gotten on. In fact, had the both of them been straight, they would have made a surprisingly cute couple. Especially since when Santana had gotten particularly vitriolic, Blaine had merely had to give her some puppy-eyes and she’d immediately caved. It was kind of adorable.</p><p>They’d come home from the date in surprisingly good mood, to an empty house due to Carole and Burt taking a trip to Washington DC for something to do with Burt’s run for Congress. (That front was going incredibly well, what with the help of Mr. Duval. Kurt had been able to step completely back from the campaign and focus on school instead.) They’d completely freaked out Finn, though, when he’d walked in on them making out like horny teenagers on the couch in the living room.</p><p>Okay, to be fair, they <em>were</em> horny teenagers. </p><p>But then they’d had to spend nearly half an hour consoling Finn and explaining that just because he didn’t want to see his brother(s) making out didn’t make him blatantly homophobic. (He did have a few internal issues to work out, but he was at least doing so in the quiet of his own mind.) Kurt didn’t like seeing Finn make out with any of his girlfriends either.</p><p>And then they’d escaped to their bedroom and spent the rest of the night worshiping each other. It was nearing seven in the morning now, weak light filtering through the French doors to the balcony as the sun was rising. And Kurt had woken to Blaine watching him sleepily, and it had been a wonderful way to wake up. “Did you get enough sleep?”</p><p>“More than the rest of this week,” Blaine said softly. He winced a little, carefully flexing his fingers. The stitches pulled just a little and he frowned at them. They’d be coming out at the end of next week so long as he didn’t manage to tear any of them. “What are the plans for today?”</p><p>Kurt shrugged a little, sighing as he slumped back into the bed and rested against Blaine’s chest. Blaine’s hand immediately made its way into his hair, and Kurt gave a soft moan. “Nothing. Maybe I intend to keep you in bed all day, Mr. Anderson,” he said with a smile. </p><p>“I’m not sure I would have a problem with that, Mr. Hummel,” Blaine murmured back, his voice going a little husky. Kurt shivered, just a bit, and grinned against Blaine’s chest. His phone dinged and he sighed, clumsily reaching around and groping for it.</p><p>A text from Mercedes asking what he was doing today made him grin again. He glanced up at Blaine, who was watching him silently, and then heaved himself up onto his elbows, holding the phone out in front of the two of them. “What?” Blaine asked, twisting just a little.</p><p>“Mercedes asked what I was doing today,” Kurt explained, glancing down at him and kissing his nose. “I’m gonna take a picture and show her,” he said with an impish smile. </p><p>Blaine laughed and Kurt took his pictures, slinking down in the bed to look through them. He’d taken a good number, wanting to get the best shot without having to actually think about it. Blaine curled up closer, tucking his head under Kurt’s chin to look as well.</p><p>In the end, the picture that Kurt sent was an absolutely adorable one, where he was looking down at Blaine with a soft smile, hovering over the boy and obviously lacking a shirt. His hair was sleep-mussed, and his eyes were shining with obvious love. Blaine was laughing, his eyes crinkled and face flushed. The added stubble and sight of his bare chest, complete with just the perfect amount of chest hair (which Kurt had never thought he’d find attractive before Blaine), and Blaine looked positively edible. </p><p><strong>To Mercedes:</strong> The correct question would have been ‘who’ am I doing today…</p><p><strong>To Kurt:</strong>  OMG! Get it Boo! </p><p><strong>To Kurt:</strong> Also, he’s hot! You lucky boy, you!</p><p><strong>To Mercedes:</strong> I thank my lucky stars every day. Shopping later?</p><p>After a moment or so of planning out a shopping trip, Kurt set his phone aside, and focused on Blaine again. </p><p>
  <strong>(This next part is for Blaine's birthday. Probably the chapter after the one above.)</strong>
</p><p>“Happy birthday, baby,” Kurt whispered, passing the package over. Blaine took it from him, eyeing his husband-boyfriend fondly. “Sorry, I wanted to give it to you in private. It’s a little…foretelling?”</p><p>Blaine nodded slowly, understanding that it had to do with their past lives. He carefully unwrapped it, making Kurt smile when he refused to tear the wrapping paper. Kurt had always thought that Blaine seemed more like someone who would happily rip into presents, so the careful dismantling was always seen as an endearing quirk.</p><p>Blaine’s breath caught when he saw the photo album and opened it to find pictures of him with his maternal grandparents. The pictures dated back to when he’d been born in Manilla, to the last time he’d been able to visit. As he turned the pages, he felt tears come to his eyes and he gave a tremulous smile. </p><p>“Cooper found the pictures for me,” Kurt murmured, leaning close to his love. “Took him a bit, but he managed. Said your Great-Aunt was willing to help out, since she knew how much your grandparents loved you. Even if the rest of the family was split on the issue, it’s really your father they’re not all that fond of, not you. Mostly.” The homosexual thing would always be a problem, considering Blaine’s family was mostly Catholic and very strict ones at that. But from the sound of things, he was still somewhat welcome in the Halili family; more so than his father was, at any rate. </p><p>Blaine continued looking through the album silently, and his smile grew when he saw the pictures change to some of him with his friends at Dalton. And then to pictures of him and Kurt. Ones that he’d taken, that Kurt had taken, and others clearly taken by their friends. He actually didn’t recognize most of them. </p><p>And then, in the very back of the album, there was a large, closed envelope. He carefully opened it to find drawings. And those drawings nearly brought him to tears.</p><p>Kurt had gone through the trouble of meticulously drawing out memories from their life Before. A scene of their tiny apartment. The Winter Showcase. The loft at Bushwick. A few memories of dates they’d been on. Sleepy Sunday mornings. NYADA. Dalton. New Directions and the Warblers singing together. </p><p>Their wedding.</p><p>Blaine set the drawings back in their envelope and carefully placed the book aside. He turned to Kurt and just watched him for a moment, a soft look on his face. “Thank you,” he whispered, a little choked. “I love you so much.”</p><p>Kurt drew him forward, placing a gentle kiss against his lips. “And I love you too. Forever and Always. Happy birthday, love.” </p><p>
  <strong>(Valentine's)</strong>
</p><p>“You’ll never guess what happened today,” Blaine said, dropping onto his dorm bed, holding the phone to his ear.</p><p>“Please tell me it has nothing to do with Prom Royalty,” Kurt moaned. </p><p>Blaine paused, blinking slightly. He’d forgotten about Prom…but wasn’t that two months from now anyway? “No?”</p><p>“Or Kissing Booths,” Kurt grumbled. Why was that even a thing this time around? Finn was already dating Quinn—he didn’t have to create a kissing booth in order to get her to kiss him. At least Santana wasn’t trying to give anyone mono this time around, though.</p><p>“Uh…no. All boy’s school, remember?” Blaine laughed. “I feel like there’s a lot that I missed out on last time around.” He glanced to his door, which was still wide open and rolled his eyes a little. He had to watch what he said, but so long as he was quiet, he should be fine. </p><p>“Okay, so what happened, baby? Please tell me your day was better than mine.”</p><p>“Well, you know Greg, right?”</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>Blaine gave a huff of a laugh. “Well, he has a crush on someone, and wants to do a flash mob to proclaim his feelings.”</p><p>“Sounds familiar,” Kurt drawled, a bit of amusement in his voice. “Where would this flash mob take place?”</p><p>“The mall. Specifically, The Gap.” Blaine laughed. “He has a crush on a poor girl who works there. Wants to sing When I Get You Alone.” </p><p>Kurt burst into laughter. “You can’t escape it!” he crowed, and Blaine could hear him fall back onto his bed. “Holy crap, what are the odds!”</p><p>“I know,” Blaine moaned. “And to make it worse, he wanted me to sing lead! I mean…why? I’m not the one trying to woo the poor girl…also, that song would probably get her fired.”</p><p>“Poor girl.”</p><p>“Actually,” Blaine said thoughtfully, “I remember her. She probably deserves to be fired anyway. Never seen a lazier worker. Pretty though, in an objective sort of way.” </p><p>“Blaine,” Kurt said with a huff. He took a breath and let it out slow. “So? Are you going to do it?”</p><p>“No,” Blaine replied. “I talked the Warblers out of it. Told Greg to try flowers and chocolates instead. Said it would probably work better than jumping out of nowhere singing about sex toys.” </p><p>Kurt laughed again, and Blaine relaxed into his bed, reveling in the sound. This week hadn’t been too bad, although he was becoming increasingly more tired. </p><p>
  <strong>(Alcohol episode)</strong>
</p><p>Kurt’s day had started horribly. He’d had terrible nightmares all night – memories, actually, of the times he’d messed up Before. The times he’d driven Blaine away. The signals he’d missed from his family. Losing Finn. Just horrible nightmares. Even calling Blaine in the middle of the night hadn’t helped, because then he just felt guilty considering Blaine had actually been sleeping for once. </p><p>Upon waking up, he’d stubbed his toe. Slipped in the shower and banged his knee. Gotten shampoo in his eyes. Ripped his favorite shirt. Lost the button off his pants. So, when he slipped on the stairs and slid down the last five on his butt, he promptly gave up and burst into tears. </p><p>Burt had come running when he’d heard Kurt fall, and was startled when his son started crying. After a minute’s explanation, Burt sent Kurt back up to bed and called the school. Kurt needed the day off, obviously, and Finn would be fine on his own. </p><p>Kurt, feeling even more guilty now, curled up in his bed and hid under the covers for a while. Today was the day of the alcohol awareness assembly, and he’d had plans to keep the glee club from making fools of themselves by getting drunk beforehand. Clearly Fate didn’t want him getting involved though, if his day was already going so poorly. Did his friends really need a lesson in alcohol awareness so badly that he’d had to fall down the stairs to keep them from getting it?</p><p>Actually…that was pretty likely.</p><p>He still felt terrible, though. The dreams from last night were plaguing him, and he couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything else. He choked on a sob when Blaine’s love blossomed and engulfed him, feeling a little too guilty to want to revel in the feeling for once. His phone dinged, then, and he glanced at it, only to find a text from Blaine, telling him to call.</p><p>Blaine, for his part, had woken up feeling Kurt’s general unease. He hadn’t slept well after Kurt had called at nearly two in the morning, but that didn’t bother him so much as Kurt still not feeling well. He got ready for the day, frowning to himself as he did so, and then joined the rest of the Warblers in the Warblers Commons, since the teachers had a mandatory faculty meeting that morning and classes wouldn’t resume until after lunch.</p><p>After another half hour, Blaine sighed and sent Kurt a text, asking him to call. It was clear that his husband-boyfriend was upset, and Blaine was tired of not being able to help. Forget school, he had a feeling that Kurt wasn’t there anyway. </p><p>He didn’t have to wait long for Kurt’s call. And then he was quietly reassuring his love that he hadn’t done anything wrong, that he was forgiven for everything he’d done Before. He was careful not to speak English (actually, he was careful not to speak any language that someone in Warblers would recognize. So, there was no Spanish, French or German either. Or Italian, just to be safe. He stuck with a mix of Tagalog and Japanese.) Kurt was still crying, though, and Blaine could feel his heart breaking a little.</p><p>“Darling, please,” he murmured. “You know I love you. I don’t care about what happened Before. I forgave you a long time ago, just like you forgave me. Come now, no more crying, love.” Kurt took a deep breath and Blaine gave a sad smile. “Would you like me to sing to you?” he asked, because he knew how to calm down Kurt just as much as Kurt knew how to calm him down. Singing was always a safe bet. At Kurt’s confirmation he asked, “Any requests?”</p><p>There weren’t any forthcoming, so Blaine thought for a moment, setting his pencil down and leaning back in his chair. He was aware that he was being watched—he was always being watched these days. The freshmen members (and some of the sophomores, for that matter) were still oblivious to his mental health issues, thankfully, but the juniors and seniors seemed to have taken it upon themselves to make sure that he was okay all the time. It didn’t matter, though, since he felt that it was a little endearing.</p><p>He took a breath and started singing Nothing’s Gonna Harm You from Sweeny Todd. The room slowly went silent, and he remembered how he’d been told that the song was eerily beautiful when sung without any accompaniment. It was doing its job, though, as Kurt was slowly calming down. </p><p>Kurt was nearly asleep by the time the song finished, so Blaine promised to see him after school, and left him to sleep.</p><p>
  <strong>(So, this takes place after the next competition. The theme was Originality, and New Directions did end up performing Loser Like Me, which Kurt had written for the group. The Warblers performed two songs with Blaine taking lead for Raise Your Glass as the third. New Directions won, but they don't have the money to go to Nationals, and were talking about doing a fundraising concert. But Kurt and Blaine knew how that would go, so they proposed a different idea. They have to get permission first, though.)</strong>
</p><p>Blaine smiled angelically at Headmaster Reynolds and the man fondly rolled his eyes. “What do you need, Mr. Anderson?” he asked, sounding a touch amused. Apparently, he was liking the fact that Blaine was actually coming to ask for something.</p><p>Blaine fidgeted just a little, trying to figure out how to word his request. “Um…okay, this is going to sound a little odd, all told,” he warned softly. Reynolds just raised an eyebrow and motioned for him to continue. “So, New Directions from McKinley, the glee club that beat us out at Regionals? They don’t have the money to go to Nationals. And they wanted to put on a benefit concert, but for some reason Lima, Ohio really doesn’t like them despite how good they are.” Blaine sounded completely baffled by that, and Reynolds couldn’t quite understand it either. “I mean, they can’t even go caroling at Christmas in their own town because people throw things at them.”</p><p>“That’s a little barbaric,” Reynolds murmured, frowning. “But what does that have to do with us?”</p><p>Blaine fidgeted just a little bit more, trying really hard to keep his hand from ending up in his mouth. That was a habit that had to go, really. “Um. Well. I was wondering if we could invite them to Dalton for a benefit concert slash jamming session? Have both our teams sing together, and the proceeds from the tickets could get them to Nationals?”</p><p>Reynolds’s eyes narrowed a little and he hummed softly, his hands steepling in front of him mouth. “Why?” he asked. “They’re your competition. Your biggest competition, and they just beat you guys out for a chance to perform in New York. Why do you want to help them?”</p><p>“Because they deserve it?” Blaine asked back, shrugging a little. “And ND is filled with good people who don’t deserve to be treated the way that Lima treats them. And many of us are friends with many of them, and the Council has already agreed to the concert if we got the administration on board.”</p><p>Reynolds was silent for a long moment, and then he nodded. “Yes, we can do that. Send me the date of the concert once you have it figured out. It can be held in our auditorium. Tickets can’t go for more than five dollars apiece, though, you know the drill.” And Blaine did, he’d helped head the concerts for the past two years here, so this wouldn’t be much different. “Good luck, Mr. Anderson. And good job.” </p><p>
  <strong>(Hashing out the setlist for the concert: Those involved in this are Wes, David, Thad, Blaine, Rachel, Santana, Finn and Kurt)</strong>
</p><p>“What song do you want to solo?” Wes asked Blaine, tapping his pencil against the notebook. </p><p>Blaine hummed to himself a bit, thinking. “Cough Syrup, by Young the Giant,” he finally answered. </p><p>“B?” Kurt asked, reaching out to him. He was frowning, recognizing the song from the last time around. He hadn’t gotten it then, but Blaine had essentially used it as a cry for help. He was kind of kicking himself for being so oblivious last time, actually.</p><p>“I’m okay,” Blaine muttered, flopping over so that his head rested in Kurt’s lap. “It’s just cathartic.”</p><p>Wes and David were frowning at him now, too. “Should I know this song?” David asked tentatively, wondering why Blaine had had to clarify that he was okay for even just mentioning it.</p><p>“It’s a little dark,” Rachel murmured, glancing over at the couple. Kurt was absently running his fingers through Blaine’s hair, despite the gel, and Blaine had seemingly checked out of the conversation entirely. “It’s kind of perfect for Birdie’s voice though.”</p><p>“It’s a suicide song,” Santana said bluntly, frowning at everyone there. She rolled her eyes. “Birdie probably makes it sound amazing though, let’s be real.”</p><p>“Oh, he sings it beautifully,” Kurt sighed. “Its fine. Cough Syrup for Blaine. I’ll solo As If I Never Said Goodbye. Oh, and Sam and Quinn want to do Lucky again.” He glanced at Finn, since he was saying that his girlfriend wanted to sing a song with her ex. But Finn didn’t seem all that bothered, to be honest. That was good—the jealousy and fighting in the group had diminished greatly compared to Before, if Kurt was honest. He had a feeling that he and Blaine (and their rather strong relationship) had a lot to do with that. Leading by example and all that jazz.</p><p>“Good, good,” Thad said softly, writing down those suggestions. They were going down the list of members who wanted solos, having asked beforehand. The concert itself needed to be about two hours long, with an intermission in the middle. They already had the group numbers decided and were just hashing out the last few songs. </p><p>“Can Kurt and I do a duet?” Blaine asked absently, rolling so that he was staring up at the ceiling.</p><p>Rachel huffed, rolling her eyes. “Of course you can,” she muttered, knowing just how good the two of them sounded together. It’d be a travesty not to let them sing together. “Just not the one you sang at the Hudmel wedding.”</p><p>Wes looked up, eyeing them all in confusion. “Why not that song?” he asked, although he didn’t even know what song the two had sung together. That seemed like so long ago, all told.</p><p>Santana scoffed, flicking Kurt’s shoulder with her well-manicured fingers. Kurt turned to scowl at her, dislodging Blaine from his lap and causing the Warbler to whine softly. “You don’t want them singing that song unless you want everyone to cry. And a bawling audience is not in the plans.”</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes, soothing Blaine with a gentle hand, and turning back to the list on the floor in front of them. “Fine, we won’t sing Come What May.” He glanced down at Blaine, eyebrows raised. The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, not speaking. “Okay. Perfect, by P!nk. The censored version, so that Dalton won’t be appalled.”</p><p>David was watching them two of them, face blank. “That’s really creepy. Don’t do it again.”</p><p>“Do what?” Blaine asked, eyes sliding shut as he yawned. </p><p>“Have telepathic conversations,” Thad answered, writing down the suggestion.</p><p>Finn rolled his eyes, sitting back a little. “You should see it when they start in on the multiple languages,” he muttered. “That’s even worse.”</p><p>Blaine muttered something, decidedly not in English, and Kurt huffed, nudging his shoulder. Blaine snickered, turning so his face was buried in Kurt’s stomach. Clearly, he was done with this meeting and had decided a nap was more useful to him. Kurt rolled his eyes but placed a gentle hand on the back of Blaine’s neck and left him alone.</p><p>
  <strong>(Okay, this is where the biggest jump happens. Blaine and his parents are called to New York for a meeting with Lolo's lawyers. Blaine's parents don't want him there, but he manages to get permission to join New Directions to Nationals (paying his own way, but staying with them in New York) in order to make the meeting. There they find out that Lolo gave Blaine his entire inheritance, like 20 million and a bunch of property from around the world, skipping Blaine's mother. Blaine's mother got something like 2 million, but it got voided the moment she turned on her son in anger, and that money was instead given to Cooper according to the will, leaving Blaine's parents with nothing. They immediately disowned Blaine, hoping that would allow them the funds, but the lawyers say that Lolo planned for that. This scene takes place after that meeting, back at the hotel with the kids.)</strong>
</p><p>Kurt tugged Blaine down onto the bed, frowning when he curled up next to him, refusing to even look at the folder that Kurt had snagged. Kurt shook his head, glancing up at the other boys and shrugging lightly before opening the folder. And then he sighed. </p><p>The emancipation papers were on the very top. Along with it was a note from the lawyer, explaining what was going on, as though he had known that Blaine would be looking for help but not know how to ask for it. Kurt read through the notes, scowling, and then flipped the page, sucking in a surprised breath. Holy crap, that was a lot of money in that trust fund. Not to mention the list of properties that went with it, located all over the world.</p><p>To be able to support each other, physically, emotionally and financially. Right. Kurt definitely hadn’t expected that wish to manifest itself in this way. Financially, indeed.</p><p>“Okay, baby,” he said softly, absently noticing that Puck, Finn and Sam had left the room. It was about time for dinner and he hoped they would bring something back for the two of them, so that he could focus on the papers and on Blaine. If he could get the rest of this figured out, then it wouldn’t be plaguing him tomorrow when they had to compete. “I’m going to call my dad.”</p><p>Blaine mumbled something, curling further into himself and pressing his face against Kurt’s hip. Kurt allowed himself a moment to stroke a comforting hand down Blaine’s back, soothing him into a slightly restless doze. He could take care of this paperwork himself, for now, but he needed to call his dad.</p><p>It didn’t take long for Burt to answer, and as soon as he did, he sounded concerned. “Hey, kiddo. How’d your rehearsal go?”</p><p>“It went well,” Kurt murmured quietly, still stroking Blaine’s back as he gazed at the papers. </p><p>“And Blaine’s meeting?” Burt continued.</p><p>Kurt frowned. “Not quite as well.” He sighed. “Dad, Blaine is now officially emancipated. There were…issues his parents and he couldn’t come to an agreement about. He has, apparently, inherited the large majority of his grandfather’s wealth which has been put in a trust until the time that he is both eighteen or older and graduated from high school. He gets a specific amount each month from said trust, but it’s contingent upon a few things.”</p><p>“What things?” Burt asked, not liking the tone his son was using. He would have immediately offered up the spare room to Kurt’s boyfriend, but he had refrained from doing so since Kurt hadn’t come up with that solution himself yet. </p><p>“He has to live on his own, paying rent and bills and can’t take any outside monetary help unless he specifically works for it with a job that can provide a W2.” Kurt listened as Burt cursed softly. “Dad? The trust only gives about a thousand a month…” He paused. “There’s that small apartment above the garage office, right?” he asked.</p><p>Burt hesitated, thinking. Hummel Tires and Lube did, actually, have a small apartment above the office. It wasn’t much and he hadn’t been up there in ages, but it did exist. “Yes. But it probably needs some work.” </p><p>“And I’m sure our friends can make it livable,” Kurt replied. He jotted down the address of the garage on the form that Blaine was going to have to return to his lawyer. “It just needs to be for another two years. Then Blaine graduates, he gains access to all of the trust as well as the properties that come with it.”</p><p>Burt sighed. “Yes. Okay, we can make that work. Is the trust going to be enough to pay for college?” he asked, because that was always a worry for Burt, if Kurt would have to take out loans or anything, and now he was worrying about Blaine again. Just because Blaine’s parents didn’t deserve to be called such. </p><p>“Dad,” Kurt chuckled, although there was little humor. “The trust holds almost twenty million. I don’t think he’s going to be worried about paying for anything after graduation.”</p><p>Burt choked a little, not quite able to comprehend that amount of money. And then he stilled, thought about it for a moment, and realized it didn’t really matter. Blaine wasn’t someone who was going to let wealth change him. At least, not in any detrimental way. “Okay. So, we have Blaine move into the apartment above the garage. He’ll have to pay rent, but we’ll come up with a fair price. One the lawyers can’t dispute. Anything else?”</p><p>Kurt sighed, doing another round of quick mental calculations and not liking where they were ending up. “He’s not going to be able to afford Dalton, Dad,” he whispered. “I’ve done the math, multiple times. It’s not going to work.”</p><p>“Twenty million and we can’t even send the boy to his school,” Burt grumbled. He knew just how important that school was to Blaine. How much of a safe haven it was, what with his PTSD and general anxiety.  “We’ll have him enrolled at McKinley,” he said reluctantly. “You should probably focus on Blaine right now, son. He’s going to need you.”</p><p>“Thanks, Dad,” Kurt murmured. “For everything.” And it was clear that he was talking about so much more than just this past conversation.</p><p>He hung up the phone, filling out a few more brackets of information on the form the lawyer needed. His heart was breaking a little for Blaine, who honestly didn’t need to be told that he was going to have to leave Dalton. They’d talked about it before and agreed that maybe it would be best for him to stay at Dalton next year instead of transferring to be with Kurt. But there was no way that he could stay at the school with its tuition; Dalton didn’t offer scholarships, and even if Burt didn’t charge rent for the schoolyear (which he somehow thought the lawyers wouldn’t go for), Blaine would still have to pay for his phone bill and his car insurance and his general living expenses. There just wasn’t any way to make the tuition costs, not to mention the extra boarding costs.</p><p>Kurt was, however, extremely grateful that the trust was going to cover the price of medical insurance and any outstanding medical fees. They could, finally, find Blaine a therapist since he no longer needed his parents to sign off on it.</p><p>Kurt managed to get Blaine to wake up and sit up so he could explain everything that was going on. Blaine sat through the explanation silently, eyes trained on the bedspread, fingers tangled with Kurt’s as though he was the only thing keeping him grounded. He didn’t seem to notice when the hotel door opened and the other three boys trooped in, holding Subway sandwiches for the two of them.</p><p>“I’m not going to be able to go to Dalton again, am I?” Blaine asked sadly, glancing up at Kurt with a broken smile. “The math isn’t adding up right.”</p><p>Kurt sighed, eyes moving to Finn, Puck and Sam for a moment. “No, baby. With everything else, you won’t be able to afford it. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Figures,” Blaine muttered, giving a huff. “Finally gain some independence from my freaking family and they still manage to screw me over.”</p><p>Puck threw himself on the bed next them, depositing the sandwiches in their laps. “Look at the bright side, Birdie,” he said happily, not knowing exactly what was going on but deciding that the two were entirely too solemn. “You’re dating freaking Hummel, man. You two are gonna be, like, the power couple of the school!”</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes. “Right. Like the two gay kids are going to have that much influence.”</p><p>Sam laughed. “Man, Kurt. You don’t know just how much the majority of the school respects you now, do you?”</p><p>“And the ones that don’t respect you, are, like, terrified of you,” Finn added. </p><p>“Power. Couple,” Puck crowed. “I’m so proud.” He wiped away a fake tear. “They grow up so fast.”</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes and nudged one of the sandwiches towards Blaine. “Alright, eat up. I promised Rachel I’d go out exploring with her,” and he really did want to break into the Gershwin Theater again, because that had been rather fun last time, “and I know you and Sam want to check out Global Comics.” He smirked. “Just try not to spend all your money there.”</p><p>Blaine sighed. “Can’t spend any money,” he griped. “My bank account’s frozen until things are figured out.”</p><p>Kurt huffed. “Fine. Don’t spend all my money then,” he said, fishing his wallet from his pocket and tossing his credit card at Blaine. Blaine raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t say anything as he tucked the card into his own wallet. Puck grinned, about to comment with something that would probably be inappropriate, but Sam covered his mouth before he could. Finn just grinned at the two of them, rolling his eyes; he was too used to the two of them using each other’s money for things. Half the time it was like they didn’t even realize they had the wrong wallets. </p><p>
  <strong>(End of the school year. New Directions finished 5th in Nationals (not 12th this time) and got to continue their club meetings for the next year since Kurt more or less threatened the principal. He's scary like that. The apartment has been fixed up by the ND and Blaine is getting ready to move into it.)</strong>
</p><p>When the last of Blaine’s things were stored in his car, the five made their way to the Warbler’s Commons to relax for a bit. Blaine was glad that he’d been slowly removing his stuff from his dorm for the past couple weeks, so that there hadn’t been too much to pack up, but now he was finding himself even more nervous. How was he supposed to explain that this was likely his last day to ever attend Dalton? He felt very close to breaking down; he really didn’t want to leave. He didn’t know how he’d done it last time around, when it actually had been his choice.</p><p>Wes and David exchanged looks, even as Nick and Jeff frowned at each other. They could all tell that Blaine was gearing himself up to tell them something, and suddenly the four were finding themselves reluctant to hear what it was. They, as one, led the smaller boy to a couch with gentle touches and silent understanding.</p><p>Blaine sat in front of them, head down, leg jiggling slightly as he clasped his hands to keep them from shaking. Nick sat next to him and hesitantly put his hand in the middle of Blaine’s back, offering some sort of support. “I need to ask for a big favor,” Blaine murmured. </p><p>“Okay,” Wes shrugged. “What do you need?”</p><p>“I need help moving out of my parent’s house,” Blaine answered, shocking the other boys into stillness. “I’m officially emancipated and moving into an apartment in Lima. I’m only allowed to take certain things from my parents’ place, but I’m on a limited timeframe so I could use some help.”</p><p>“Lima?” David asked, crouching so he could meet Blaine’s eyes. </p><p>Blaine nodded. “Kurt’s father has an apartment above his garage. I’m renting it now, due to legal issues,” he muttered. “And…I won’t be coming back to Dalton next year.” Jeff sat down, pulling Blaine gently into his arms, because Blaine sounded so close to breaking. Nick, Jeff and David may not know everything regarding Blaine’s transfer, but they knew how important Dalton was to the boy. “I can’t afford it anymore.”</p><p>“Please tell me you’re going to McKinley,” Wes murmured, joining David on the ground in front of Blaine. “If you have to go to public school, please tell me you’re going to be with your friends and Kurt.”</p><p>Blaine gave a short nod, letting loose a shaky breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be going to McKinley. Puck is convinced Kurt and I are going to be the power couple of the school.”</p><p>“New Directions already knows, then?” Nick asked, rubbing Blaine’s back and smiling slightly as the boy relaxed in Jeff’s hold. He met his boyfriend’s eyes over Blaine’s head and shrugged lightly.</p><p>Blaine nodded a little, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Uh huh,” he grunted. “They helped me figure it all out in New York,” he grumbled. “And have been working on making the apartment livable. Apparently, it was being used as a storeroom for the past fifteen or so years.”</p><p>Wes nodded. “Good. At least I know you’ll be safer than the last place,” he muttered. He patted Blaine’s knee. “Okay. Let’s get you moved out of your parents’ place. You said you’re on a time-frame?”</p><p>“Today’s the only day I’m allowed in the house, and only until five,” Blaine replied, glancing over to a clock and noting that it was nearing ten. “I’m only allowed to take my clothes, things that I’ve personally bought, or things that have specifically been gifted to me.”</p><p>Jeff frowned. “That’s…harsh.”</p><p>Blaine nodded, allowing David to pull him to his feet. “Yeah. I mentioned legal issues, right?” He rolled his eyes, running a hand over his hair to make sure it was still firmly gelled in place. “I ended up getting the majority of my grandfather’s inheritance—in an untouchable trust for the moment—and my parents are fighting against the ruling with everything they’ve got. But I’m on a limited budget until I graduate so I can’t afford Dalton anymore and life kinda sucks right now.”</p><p>His friends all exchanged frowns and promptly pulled him into another tangled, group hug, not letting go even when he flinched the littlest bit at the movement. Once they released him, he gave a soft laugh, feeling a little more stable than he had earlier; he had amazing friends. “I’ve rented a box truck for the weekend. Kurt has plans for tomorrow, since I need, like, everything for the apartment.”</p><p>“Is that why he texted to ask if all four of us were free tomorrow?” Jeff asked, shoving his hands in his pockets as Nick linked arms with him. </p><p>“Probably?” Blaine shrugged, not exactly knowing what Kurt was planning. When all four said that they were on board with whatever it was, though, he gave a small smile. </p><p>They made it to Blaine’s old house within an hour and a half, and that was with picking up the truck. He was a little terrified of David’s driving, but that didn’t seem to matter. Packing up Blaine’s room only took about four hours in total, as he wasn’t really caring about how the boxes were packed.</p><p>To be honest, there wasn’t much that would be leaving the house. With the stipulations from the lawyers, the majority of what he was taking were his clothes, books, movies and records. There were his photographs and his two guitars, but the violin, keyboard and record player had to stay behind. He couldn’t take any of the furniture or bedsheets, quilts or posters. Frankly, it wasn’t much of a haul and the majority of it actually consisted of his books. He did have a lot of those. </p><p>“So,” David started, driving Blaine’s car as he followed the truck that Wes was driving down to Lima. “What’s this apartment like?” Nick was in the backseat, Jeff with Wes, and Blaine had forgone driving by stating he just didn’t feel up to it. Saying goodbye to the house he had grown up in, even with very few happy memories, had taken a bit out of him.</p><p>Blaine shrugged. “I actually haven’t seen it,” he answered. “ND only finished painting it this week, so Kurt hasn’t let me see it yet. It’s apparently really tiny, though. Only about six hundred square feet, with one bedroom and a small bathroom. The kitchen and living room are all together. It’s above the office of the garage.”</p><p>“And Burt’s giving you a good deal?” Nick asked, not sounding all too worried. They knew that Burt was on the level as Wes, David, Nick and Jeff had all met the man before. Burt had a habit of being fatherly to everyone, no matter how estranged from the family they actually were.</p><p>“Yeah,” Blaine said, sighing softly. “We had to make it a legit fair price so the lawyers wouldn’t fight it, but I’ve got a good deal.” He leaned back into his seat, rubbing at his forehead; he could feel a headache coming on. “Do I need to let you guys off at Dalton for the night?” Officially, move-out was the next day, and he couldn’t remember if the three boys had already emptied their dorms or not.</p><p>“No,” David said, glancing his way. “We got moved out yesterday. All three of us were just there to help you. Kurt’s invited us to stay at his place tonight so we can all go do whatever he has planned tomorrow.” </p><p>“Cool.”</p><p>They ended up parking at Kurt’s house, and Blaine was glad for the long driveway that allowed them to keep the truck out of the road. “I love this house,” he murmured to himself as he exited the car and headed up the steps of the porch. He smiled at the sight of the porch swing that Burt had installed last week. </p><p>“You do like your antiques,” David pointed out with a smile, taking in how at ease Blaine was here. It was a nice change from how he’d been at his own house.</p><p>“Hudmel?” Nick asked, eyeing the sign that was hanging on the door, and Blaine laughed.</p><p>“Hudson-Hummel,” he explained, glancing back at his four friends, their bags slung over their shoulders. Blaine hadn’t bothered; he’d be packing up his stuff from this house soon too. “Come on.” He didn’t bother knocking, instead just opening the door and stepping inside, toeing off his shoes. “Carole? Kurt?” he called into the house. The others followed suit with their shoes, setting their bags nearby.</p><p>“In the kitchen, honey!” Carole called back, and Blaine led the group through the dining room to the kitchen. “Hello, B,” Carole grinned, pulling Blaine into a hug and kissing his cheek. “Hello, boys,” she greeted the others.</p><p>Kurt danced forward, hands covered in dough of some kind and leaned down to give Blaine a chaste kiss, holding his hands far out of the way. “Hey, baby. Hi, guys,” he greeted. “Did you get everything packed?” he asked. </p><p>“All loaded in the truck,” Wes nodded, leaning on the counter and watching as Kurt returned to his baking, David next to him. Nick and Jeff settled at the table in the bay window and Blaine snuck around to steal a raspberry from Carole’s bowl, where she was preparing what looked like pie filling. “Where are we going tomorrow?” he asked.</p><p>Kurt smiled at the group of them. “There’s a huge flea-market, artisan festival happening about an hour south of here tomorrow. I figured we could find most of what Blaine needs there.”</p><p>They all agreed on that, and Blaine could admit to being just a bit excited about the prospect. He hadn’t been looking forward to having to shop for his apartment, as with his budget he’d been afraid he’d have to resort to Ikea and Walmart. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but it definitely wasn’t his style.</p><p>The six boys were kicked out of the kitchen as soon as the pies were put in the oven, Carole plying them with some snacks that would tide them over until dinner, and they trooped up to Kurt’s room in the attic. Wes and David would be taking the guest room on the second floor while Nick and Jeff took the futon in Kurt’s room, but for now they were planning on playing video games and watching movies for the rest of the night. Wes and David were insisting on watching James Bond, as a reminder of how they’d met Kurt in the first place.</p><p>He’d rolled his eyes but hadn’t put up much of a fight on the subject. </p><p>With Burt out of town and Finn staying at Puck’s for the night, the six boys and Carole had the house to themselves. Carole joined them for a few movies, throwing popcorn at the screen with the boys and cheering on the action. Having only had Finn in her life for so long, she fit right in. She left them at about ten, reminding them that they had a busy day the next morning and not to stay up too late. </p><p>“Your mom is awesome,” Nick said softly as she went back downstairs.</p><p>“Yeah,” Kurt whispered. “Carole’s the best.” There was a soft smile on his face, and he pulled Blaine closer to him as they settled in for one more movie.</p><p>They slept soundly that night, Blaine held snugly in Kurt’s arms. He managed to get a full seven hours, which was great, because he had a feeling that he’d need quite a bit of energy that day. Breakfast was a lively affair, and then the six boys piled into Kurt’s Navigator and the box truck to head to the flea-market. They stopped for more coffee on the way since the drive was going to be an hour long.</p><p>Once there, they split into three groups, Kurt handing each of the groups an envelope with cash inside. “Okay, so,” he started explaining. “Niff, you’ve got the kitchen and dining area. There’s a list with the specifics you need, but you can improvise anything else. Wevid, you’ve got the living room. Same with the lists. Both of you have seven hundred and fifty dollars. Blaine and I will take the bedroom and bathroom.” They giggled over the ‘couple’ names, taking the envelopes and riffling through them a bit. Burt and Carole had mentioned that they would take care of food and cleaning supplies for the apartment, as a kind of house-warming gift to the boy so he wouldn’t have to worry about that on top of everything else.</p><p>There were a few questions, but both groups figured they knew Blaine well enough to know what he’d like. Kurt had been kind enough to give specific measurements of the spaces as well, so that they wouldn’t end up getting furniture that would be too big for the space. </p><p>Nick and Jeff wandered through the stalls, smiling at everything there was to see. When Kurt had said it was a large flea-market, artisan fair he hadn’t been kidding. The field it was taking place in was at least the size of two football fields, if not bigger, and had just about everything under the sun for sale. They found a small dining table and chair set rather quickly, knowing that Blaine would love the tall café-style glass-topped, iron table and matching chairs (of which there were only two). It wasn’t very big, but then it didn’t really need to be. </p><p>Dishes came in the form of a large box of assorted ceramics from a thrift shop that was going out of business. Silverware and cooking utensils were also a box of assorted pieces from the same place. It would be an eclectic mix, but they didn’t think Blaine would mind much, although Kurt might be appalled by the lack of coordination. Baking materials were found for a decent price by a lady who was selling such along with some amazing looking cakes. Pots and pans were harder to find, and they had to resort to finding them piece by piece. They hadn’t really ever considered that pans could be so many different colors. Blaine liked colors though, so that was a go, there.</p><p>Nick managed to find dish towels and rags decorated with roosters, which made both him and Jeff cackle madly. Especially considering the roosters were cartoons and posed in pin-up calendar style. They couldn’t say no to those. </p><p>The kitchen was being furnished with appliances, and that included the microwave, but Niff still had to find a coffee maker, blender, toaster and such. They weren’t too bothered as they were having a lot of fun. And each time they bought enough to have an armful, or a boxful, one of them would run it back to the truck. The furniture was being held by the sellers to be picked up a little bit later.</p><p>Wevid were having just as much fun with their part. They’d found a stall selling antique bookcases for ridiculously low prices and had immediately bought a whole bunch of them, the majority of which being only waist-high, with two taller ones. (The seller had mentioned that they had gotten them from some hundred-year-old government building that had been demolished or something.) They knew how many books, records and movies Blaine had and knew that he was likely to get more. The boy was a nerd (and even had the comic book collection to prove it) and needed the shelf space to support his collection. </p><p>A second-hand electronics stall got them an affordable flat-screen television of about forty inches, and a DVD player. They weren’t the most up-to-date, but they’d do fine for now. Kurt’s list stated that he needed a couch of some sort and a coffee table as well as some extra storage if at all possible. So, when they found the large steamer trunk, David insisted that it could be used as the coffee table. Knowing Blaine’s obsession with antiques, Wes was quick to agree. He’d probably love it.</p><p>The couch was a little difficult; they needed something that would fit the space, be affordable and not be too difficult to get up the stairs. Only, then they found a stall that had something that they just had to get for Blaine. A couch made from an old claw-foot tub. Just like the one from the movie Breakfast At Tiffany’s, which they were fully aware was Blaine’s favorite movie. </p><p>They had to negotiate with the seller, as the price was a little steep, but once they explained a bit about the circumstances their friend was facing, the seller was a little more sympathetic. Also, they promised to take the butt-ugly floral-printed couch that was being sold as well (since no one had wanted it and the seller was a little desperate to get rid of it). It was a monstrosity, although not too big, but Wes had realized it was also one of the most comfortable couches he’d ever sat on, so it really wasn’t all that bad of a deal. (It was also a rather deep couch, and Wes couldn’t help but laugh at the thought that Blaine probably wouldn’t be able to touch the floor if he sat back far enough on it. It’d make a good napping couch though.)</p><p>With the remainder of their money, they found a couple lamps and two large boxes of picture frames, one box having pictures (all of which black-and-white) and the other empty of pictures. All the frames were wood, but of various sizes and designs. All in all, they figured it was a success, and if they managed to find a good deal on some books and movies that they knew Blaine didn’t have yet, all the better.</p><p>Kurt and Blaine, on the other hand, were having a little bit of a harder time. Finding a bedroom set in their budget was proving to be difficult, even if they did have a total of a thousand dollars. They kept having to remind themselves that they also had to get bathroom linins, bedsheets, quilts, and other necessities. Also, a mattress would have to be purchased at some point, but they’d decided to worry about that later and Blaine could make use of an air mattress until then.</p><p>“What instruments were you able to bring?” Kurt asked softly, wandering through a stall of glittering semi-precious stones. They were pretty but not what they were looking for. </p><p>“Just my guitars,” Blaine answered, looking just a little sad. “Someday, Kurt, I’m going to have a baby grand. And a violin again.” He sounded hopeful, and Kurt knew that he was thinking of just how good the future could be. He’d have the money to get whatever he wanted then.</p><p>“You will,” Kurt agreed, leading Blaine over to another stall that was selling quilts. “You’ll have a beautiful antique piano and you’ll write the greatest Broadway plays on it.” Blaine smiled at him and wandered off a bit, while Kurt looked over the quilts. The lady selling them walked up, a little stooped and with a head full of gray hair. </p><p>“See anything you like, dear?” she asked, smiling at him. Kurt gave her a bit of a nod and a smile. She nodded back, looking over his shoulder to Blaine, who was studying an antique bedframe, half hidden by quilts. “If you don’t mind me asking,” she started. “What’s going on with your friend?”</p><p>“Hmm?” Kurt hummed, looking up at her in confusion, and then over to Blaine.</p><p>“He seems sad,” the lady responded. </p><p>“Oh,” Kurt responded, a little shocked. He’d thought that Blaine was managing to hide it rather well today. “His parents have more-or-less kicked him out. We’re shopping for his new apartment.” He didn’t want to get into the emancipation and trust fund issue; no one else needed to know the details.</p><p>The lady frowned, her eyes darkening. “Well, that just won’t do,” she muttered, shaking her head. She looked a little angry on Blaine’s behalf, and Kurt found it just a little refreshing. He knew that Blaine looked too young to be living on his own, but too many people judged regardless. Too many people would have automatically assumed the teenager to have been in the wrong and therefore deserving of his fate.</p><p>“Hey, Kurt,” Blaine called, and Kurt excused himself for a moment, heading over to where Blaine was stroking the wood of the headboard he’d been studying. “Look. Warblers.” And, on the dark wood of the headboard was a carved scene of six small warblers on a branch. The carving was stained a slightly lighter shade than the rest of the wood, and the bedframe itself was rather late Victorian. Kurt studied the bed, noting its size and how it had to be approximately a king-sized bed. He glanced around, finding a high-boy dresser and two nightstands that were in the same style with warblers also carved into the drawers. Hard-carved, considering that each scene was slightly different, most of the drawers only having two birds, and the top drawer of the dresser sporting six birds, like the bedframe. </p><p>The seller wandered over to stand by them, a box filled with quilts in her arms. “Are you interested in the set, dearie?” she asked Blaine, handing the box to Kurt, who took it, a little bewildered. </p><p>Blaine gave her a slightly wistful smile. “It’s beautiful,” he commented. “But I’m sure I can’t afford it.”</p><p>“Don’t be silly, honey,” the lady said with a smile. “It’s missing both the vanity and the wash-table, so I can’t sell it at a high price anyway.” She placed her hands on her hips. “Besides, I’ve been looking for someone who would appreciate it for what it is, and you’re the first person to even recognize the birds carved on it.”</p><p>She talked them into buying the set for a ridiculously low price, adding in the box of quilts that she’d prepared. There had been a soft comment to Kurt about a particular quilt, made from old sweaters she’d collected from thrift-stores, that apparently felt like being wrapped in a hug. Both boys were exceptionally touched by the woman’s attitude, knowing that she was losing out on a lot of money in selling them the set for less than five hundred, but she didn’t seem concerned in the slightest. </p><p>She wished them luck on the rest of their shopping, saying she’d hold onto the pieces until they were ready to load them up, and letting them know of a few other shops where they could find some good deals. Blaine and Kurt left then, much happier than they had been earlier. In fact, Kurt was now in such a good mood that he even allowed himself to eat half the funnel cake Blaine bought for them to share. </p><p>The rest of the shopping went a lot easier. And by the time they met up with the other four, it was getting time to head back for dinner, all of them having snacked on fair food for lunch. It took some negotiating to be able to collect all the furniture that had been bought and get it loaded onto the truck. Blaine had been rather giddy over the bathtub couch, practically jumping in place while clapping his hands in excitement, and Kurt had been appalled by the floral couch. He’d immediately stated that it either needed to be completely reupholstered, or it would need a slipcover, which made everyone laugh.</p><p>The bed-set was actually rather well-liked among the boys, and everyone claimed a warbler as themselves, with Kurt having been declared an honorary one. The two warblers that were more-or-less cuddling in the middle of the group on the headboard were proclaimed to be ‘Klaine’ by the boys, which had made both Blaine and Kurt laugh good naturedly. Blaine kissed the seller on her wrinkly cheek, and she tittered happily, wishing him luck with his life.</p><p>And when Wes, David, Nick and Jeff showed Blaine the antique gramophone they’d pooled the remainder of their funds to buy, he nearly cried. The fact that it had been retrofitted to play modern records (or as modern as today’s records could be) made it even better. He’d been afraid he wouldn’t be able to listen to his records for some time. His friends were the best, there was no question about it.</p><p>The truck was filled to the brim by the time they were done loading, and everyone was hungry and tired. They didn’t exactly know how they were going to get some of the pieces up the stairs to the apartment; that tub couch was freaking heavy. But Kurt promised that Finn and Puck and Sam had offered their help, and they headed on their way back to Lima.</p><p>They stopped for dinner at a Chinese buffet, and maybe they were a little loud as the six recounted all they’d seen at the fair. A couple of the booths had been downright scandalous, after all. There was a lot of laughter and good humor floating about their table, and nobody gave the six any trouble. A few odd looks had been sent their way when one couple or another had done something particularly touchy-feely, but the boys were careful to keep their hands to themselves for the most part anyway. Small-town Ohio, after all.</p><p>Finn, Puck and Sam were waiting at the garage by the time they pulled up, ready to help unload the truck. Kurt led Blaine upstairs first, to take his first sight of his new home for the next two years at least. He handed the keys over and Blaine unlocked the door, stepping inside. Flipping on the light, he smiled lightly at the sight that greeted him.</p><p>It was, as he’d been warned, a small space, with old worn wooden floors throughout. He had entered in at the kitchen with two small doors to his right that opened to a shallow closet (a vacuum and broom resting inside) and a shallow pantry. The U-shaped kitchen had been painted a cheery, bright blue with bright white cabinets. There was a short peninsula with the oven in the middle, while the fridge was against the wall and the sink under the left wall window with a wide sill. There was no dishwasher, but Blaine wasn’t all that concerned; he had nothing against washing dishes by hand. The counters were an old gray Formica, but honestly it didn’t look all that bad with the blue and white.</p><p>The kitchen opened into the living room, which had been painted a very light gray, with the far wall a bright purple and all the trim and doors a bright white. There were two windows on the right wall, facing out over the garage’s parking lot. On the purple wall were two doors, situated both far to the right. One, the furthest to the right, opened into a small bathroom that only had enough room for a small sink and vanity combo, a toilet and a shower. There wasn’t room for a tub, and the tiny window was situated near the ceiling in the shower. Everything in this room was painted white, although the shower was tiled in light blue; it helped to make the space seem just a bit bigger.</p><p>The other door was to the bedroom, painted in the same light gray as the living room, which had one window on the left side and a shallow closet with sliding mirrored doors to the right. There would hardly be any room to walk once the bed was put together, and the dresser would probably have to be shoved into the corner across from the bed, and only one nightstand would fit in the room for now but Blaine was quite pleased overall. This was his own space, and it would be his home where he wouldn’t be hounded by parents that just didn’t understand or care about him.</p><p>He turned, hugging Kurt and burying his face in his boyfriend’s neck. “Thank you,” he whispered. Kurt said nothing, just tightened his arms around him, holding him firm for a long moment so he could collect himself. And then they were interrupted by the other boys, all lugging boxes and items up the stairs.</p><p>It was a hectic mess for a while, as boxes were deposited on the counter and in corners and furniture was placed in tentative spaces. The stairs weren’t wide enough for more than one person at a time, and the apartment was really too small for all the activity that was going on. Finn and Puck managed to get the couches up the stairs with much cursing and minimal injuries, the tub-couch being put against the purple wall, and the ugly couch kitty-corner from it on the left wall. </p><p>Sam and Blaine got a little sidetracked discussing comic books when they found one of the boxes that had been filled with them from Blaine’s old house was threatening to spill its load. Kurt had rolled his eyes and prodded them back into work, stating that the truck still needed to returned and they were all tired and wanted to be done already. Wes and Jeff got the bookcases set up along the right wall, the tall ones at the ends with all the waist-high ones in the middle. The TV and DVD player went on top, between the two windows. The bookcases were all different colors, different shades of brown with the middlemost one being an off-white with gray shelves, but it just seemed to add to the eclectic look of the room. </p><p>With the steamer trunk placed in the middle of the floor, on top of a cow-hide rug that David had found for twenty bucks (and honestly, wasn’t that a steal?), and one of the warbler nightstands in the corner between the two couches, the living room was pretty much set, furniture wise. The gramophone was placed on the nightstand, and a tall floor lamp behind it.</p><p>The table and chairs were under a small window near the kitchen peninsula. And Nick and David had managed to get the bedroom set up the stairs and into the bedroom, although they didn’t bother putting together the bedframe, since they didn’t have a mattress and Blaine needed the floorspace for the air mattress for right now. With all the boxes unloaded and scattered throughout the space, all the boys collapsed on the floor, exhausted.</p><p>Kurt rewarded everyone with some of the hand pies that he and Carole had made the day before, and ice cream that had been stashed in the freezer. There was some light-hearted talk, and then they locked up. Nick, Jeff, Wes and David were headed back to turn in the truck, picking up Wes’s car from Dalton so the boys would have a way home afterwards, while Blaine would be spending another night with Kurt.</p><p>Blaine made sure to hug his friends and thank them profusely for their help. They all stated that it had been no trouble at all, and that he better keep in touch whether he was at Dalton or not. Blaine promised to do so, hoping that this time around he could help keep the Warblers from falling into as much disrepair as they had before. Sebastian and then Hunter had done a number on the group, and with any luck he and Kurt could mitigate some of those problems this time. </p><p>Blaine didn’t sleep as well that night, escaping from the bed to curl up on Kurt’s futon with a book. When Kurt woke at seven, he migrated to the futon for more sleepy cuddles, frowning at Blaine. “You okay?” he asked around a yawn.</p><p>“Yeah,” Blaine sighed, placing the book aside. “It just doesn’t seem real, you know?”</p><p>Kurt nodded a little. “Are you going to be okay on your own there?” he asked, knowing that Blaine’s sleeping habits weren’t any better than they’d ever been. </p><p>“If I need you, I’ll call,” the boy responded softly, running his fingers through Kurt’s hair. He was staring off into the middle distance. “I think I found a therapist in town that will be good. All the reviews seem promising.” It was hard, finding a therapist that wasn’t homophobic in small-town Ohio, but Blaine thought that this Dr. Stein seemed like a good fit. She had, apparently, moved to Lima from Columbus due to her husband’s job.</p><p>“Good,” Kurt murmured. “Breakfast and then unpacking?” he asked softly, prodding Blaine into standing. “And then a nap?”</p><p>“Sounds amazing,” Blaine conceded, heading for the stairs.</p><p>~*~</p><p>They had just gotten to the apartment and were standing around trying to figure out where to start when Mr. Schue showed up. He had, apparently, brought a king-sized mattress as a house-warming gift for Blaine. He’d talked to Carole last night, after the boys had returned, to get the size needed, and then commented to the boys that he still had a storage unit with a few more mattresses to offload from the commercial that they’d done last year, so if they knew anyone who needed them…</p><p>This, of course, meant that instead of unpacking Blaine and Kurt spent the morning putting together the bedframe and wrestling the massive mattress into place. The room was a little too small for the bed, but they situated it under the left wall window (although the headboard covered half the window in the end), with the nightstand to the right and the dresser on the wall that separated them from the living room, at the foot of the bed. Kurt said it was a little claustrophobic; Blaine said it was cozy.</p><p>They were about to break for lunch when they were interrupted again. “Knock, knock boys!” Rachel called from the other side of the door and Kurt went to let her in.<br/>She was followed by Tina and Mercedes, who were all smiling happily. “We bring lunch,” Tina said grandly, holding out a bag filled with deli sandwiches and salads. “As well as a gift to you!” and she handed Blaine a large, manila envelope.</p><p>He opened it and smiled. Inside was a collection of photographs, most of them printed in black and white and with various sizes scattered among them. “Thanks, girls,” he said, shifting through the photos. They had to have stolen his phone at one point, as well as contacted a couple of his friends from Dalton to get some of these pictures. He also recognized a few from Kurt’s phone as well. </p><p>“Wes told me that he got you a bunch of frames and black and white pictures,” Rachel explained with a happy smile, rocking back and forth on her feet. “So, we girls got together and hunted down a bunch of pictures with the help of Carole and Kurt and thought you could have some fun with them. There are a few colored ones in there as well, but we stuck mostly with the black and white theme.”</p><p>“You girls work fast,” Blaine said with a smooth smile. He was rather at ease at the moment, feeling all kinds of love for his friends. They waved it off with pleased looks and each of them kissed the boys on their cheeks before they left. </p><p>Kurt laughed a little, “We should eat our lunch and actually get around to unpacking,” he commented, leading Blaine to the little table. They removed the box that was sitting on top of it and dug into the sandwiches and salads, talking softly to each other about nothing in particular. </p><p>And then came the unpacking. Kurt took over organizing Blaine’s wardrobe, while Blaine tackled the boxes of books and movies and records. He placed his iPod in its dock on the steamer trunk and turned on a playlist of their favorite songs, the two of them singing along to the music as they worked. “I have so many books!” Blaine sang loudly to the tune of the song that was playing.</p><p>Kurt laughed from the bedroom. “And who’s fault is that, honey?” he asked, showing up in the doorway to lean on the frame. He watched as Blaine shelved a few more books, taking far more care to get them alphabetical by author than he did with his movies. Those had just been thrown onto the shelves under the TV without a second thought. (Kurt would organize them alphabetically later.)</p><p>Blaine shrugged, giving a cheeky grin. “I’m a nerd. What can I say?”</p><p>“Your closet’s done,” Kurt said softly, walking past Blaine and caressing his cheek as he went. “So’s your dresser. Clothes are all set. We still need to get pillows, sheets and pillowcases for your bed, but we have the quilts.” They hadn’t been able to find a place selling sheets and pillows that the boys trusted yesterday and had opted to stop by Walmart for any additional needs. That was why Kurt had set aside a further five hundred dollars before their excursion. It was all that was left of the three thousand that they’d managed to set aside for apartment furnishing. </p><p>Blaine hummed, watching him go after leaning into the caress. Kurt made his way to the large box that the lady had prepared for them; they hadn’t even looked to see what quilts were inside it when she’d sold them the box along with the bed set. He pulled out one of the quilts, his eyes widening at the explosion of color. </p><p>“Wow,” Blaine said, pushing himself to his feet. “That’s amazing. I didn’t know people made quilts like that.” The quilt was massive but not all that thick, easily big enough to fit on Blaine’s bed, and lined with black. It had a geometric pattern with the colors gradating inwards from black corners to a white center. It kind of looked like a rainbow, to be honest.</p><p>Kurt smiled, pulling out another, smaller quilt. This one had a note pinned to it, explaining it was a Morse code quilt and depicted the quote: “I didn’t come this far, to only come this far.” It was a cream-colored quilt, with the design in red and purple, and quite a bit thicker than the rainbow one. </p><p>There were two more quilts in the box, another the size of the Morse code quilt, with a standard log cabin design of blues and greens and reds and purples. And the last was a large, patchwork like quilt made of old sweaters. It was cozy, thin and extremely soft. “Suddenly, I want to learn how to quilt,” Blaine said, running a hand over the rainbow quilt as Kurt snuggled into the sweater one. </p><p>“I have a lot of fabric scraps that could be used,” Kurt offered, and Blaine shot him a grin. </p><p>It was decided that the rainbow quilt would be going on the bed while the other three were carefully folded and stored in the steamer trunk. It was a little too warm to worry about quilts right now, but they would come in handy in the winter for sure.</p><p>Blaine returned to his books while Kurt started sorting through the kitchen supplies that Nick and Jeff had picked out. He rolled his eyes at the odd selection of ceramics, placing them away in cupboards and stacking all the mugs in another. Nothing matched and it was a wide array of design and color, but somehow it worked. And then he found the box with the roosters and cracked up, drawing Blaine into the kitchen.</p><p>They got a good laugh over those roosters, even more so when they managed to find the ceramic rooster cookie-jar that went with the set. They’d never thought they would find pin-up style roosters (and let it be known, they were roosters, not chickens), and they found it completely hilarious. The two made sure to text Nick and Jeff their thanks for such hilarity. “Oh my Gaga,” Kurt choked, pulling something from the box. “There’s an apron.”</p><p>Blaine took one look at the red apron, which depicted a picture of a rooster and the words “Kiss the Cock” and doubled over with laughter, nearly falling. </p><p>“Is there a market for this? What the hell!” he gasped, wiping tears from his eyes. “Erotic roosters. Just what every gay guy needs for his kitchen.” Blaine put the apron on, struck a pose and had Kurt take a picture to send to Niff before the two of the broke into laughter again.</p><p>Taking a quick break, they ran to Walmart to get the sheets, pillows and a few other items they hadn’t managed to find. A dish-drainer for the kitchen, cutlery organizers for the drawers and a spice rack. Bins for the pantry. Larger bins to store under the bed. A black slip cover for the ugly couch. Throw pillows for the couches. A laundry basket that could be stored under the bed (instead of a hamper, since Blaine had said he’d just use the basket as a hamper to transport his clothes to and from the Hudmel household on Fridays, which had been deemed as his laundry day since he’d be coming over for dinner anyway.) He was kind of lucky that his bedframe was so tall, to be able to fit so much under the bed. And two clocks, one for the main room and another for the bedroom. Because those were needed and they hadn’t thought of them before. And then spent the remaining ten dollars on m&amp;m’s because they wanted to.</p><p>Once they were back, Blaine returned to his books, the records already stored away on the bottom shelves of the tall bookcases, while Kurt went to make the bed. They’d gone with black for the sheets and pillowcases, to match the quilt. Blaine wandered in soon after and they both fell onto the bed and quickly into a deep nap.</p><p>
  <strong>(A later chapter, during the summer before the next school year. The introduction of a new character that's important to Blaine.)</strong>
</p><p>Burt stared at Bentley, his face not quite a scowl. Kurt’s eyebrows were high, and his jaw was just barely keeping from gaping. Bentley, for his part, was just standing there innocently, gazing at the monster that he’d brought into the garage.</p><p>“When I said that I wanted you to pick up a cat, for the purpose of keeping the mice and rats at bay,” Burt said slowly. “I meant an actual cat. Like a housecat. Not a mountain lion.” <br/>“This is a cat,” Bentley said, shrugging. The thing on the couch hissed. “And the shelter didn’t have any other cats than this that weren’t, like, kittens. And you said you didn’t want a kitten.”</p><p>Burt had noticed, about two weeks ago, that they had a mouse and/or rat problem in the garage. And with Blaine now living upstairs, he’d decided that they needed to get a handle on it. So, he’d bought poison and traps and set them out. But the traps had been sprung without anything to show for it, and the poison had remained untouched. The last resort had been to send Bentley out to get a cat from the shelter, a full grown one that could live at the garage and keep the rodents at bay. He hadn’t wanted a kitten, but this…he wasn’t sure it was a cat.</p><p>“It’s kinda pretty…” Kurt murmured. The cat was massive and furry and had the most piercing green eyes. It was an off-white with gray undertones and had to weigh at least 20 pounds. It was, roughly, the size of a small child. Kurt was pretty sure that he’d heard of this breed before, but he couldn’t think of what it was when faced up against it. <strong>(Note: I don't know if I mention it later, but the cat is a Maine Coon.)</strong></p><p>The moment it had been let out of the carrier it had attacked Bentley with its claws, ears back and hissing, and had hightailed it to the couch in the corner of the breakroom. When Burt had tried to touch it, he’d gotten a bloody hand for his efforts. Sarah and Dirk hadn’t had much luck either and had both retreated to the bays, where it was decidedly safer. The thing was vicious, and Burt was pretty sure he wasn’t that desperate for rodent control to keep it around.</p><p>“Pretty isn’t going to keep it from clawing your eyes out, son,” Burt pointed out. His gaze returned to Bentley. “What’s the return policy?”</p><p>“Dad!” Kurt gasped, his hands falling to his hips. He sounded appalled. “You can’t just return an animal the same day you adopt it!”</p><p>“I didn’t adopt it,” Burt scowled. “Kurt, that thing isn’t going to work out here. I can’t guarantee that it won’t attack the customers and…”</p><p>Blaine wandered in, not paying any attention to the people in the room. He’d had his therapy session today and was subsequently not in any state of mind to deal with other people. However, Dr. Stein had told him that he had to be around others today, what with how their session had gone, and that he wasn’t allowed to hide in his apartment, so he’d opted for the breakroom, where no one would bother him.</p><p>Burt and Kurt both yelled warnings, but he’d already plopped face-first onto the couch before he’d realized that they were yelling at him.</p><p>Kurt’s eyebrows rose again when the cat hissed, jumping to the back of the couch when Blaine didn’t even notice it. Its paw reached out, claws extended, but then it froze. Its eyes narrowed and it watched the boy for a long moment, and then slowly, ever so slowly, it stepped off the back of the couch and onto Blaine’s back. Blaine tensed a bit, his head turning to meet the green eyes of the beast as it stuck its nose in Blaine’s face and sniffed delicately. Blaine didn’t much care, and just shut his eyes, relaxing into the couch. The cat dragged its tongue against Blaine’s stubbly jaw, and then promptly stretched itself out along the length of his back, tail twitching in warning as it glared down the other humans in the room.</p><p>“That thing is nearly as big as you are, B,” Kurt murmured, eyeing the cat. Its head was resting on Blaine’s head, its back paws stretched down to Blaine’s back pockets, and its tail draped delicately across his waist. It was, to be completely honest, a ridiculous sight. Blaine just grunted, relaxing a bit more as the cat started softly purring, although it was still glaring menacingly at everyone else.</p><p>“The cat stays,” Kurt murmured, and Burt rolled his eyes. “Bentley? Is it a boy or girl?”</p><p>“Girl,” Bentley mumbled. “Paperwork is in the carrier. Um…I’m gonna go work now,” he said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder as he backed towards the door. </p><p>Kurt smiled a little, walking towards the couch. He ignored the cat for the moment, focused on Blaine, and knelt down. Reaching out a hand, he pulled it back when the cat swiped at him. He frowned at her, pointing in her face. “Hey, he was mine first,” he said, causing Burt to snort in the background. The cat glared at him but then settled, watching as Kurt stroked Blaine’s hair. “You okay, baby?” he asked.</p><p>“Why did I want therapy again?” Blaine mumbled, his face still buried in the couch cushions. They smelled like grease and oil and he found it oddly comforting. “Also, what’s with the cat?”</p><p>“The cat has decided that you belong to her now,” Kurt said. “And we’re not entirely sure it’s a cat and not a monster.”</p><p>Blaine grunted and Kurt watched as he slowly went limp against the cushions. Apparently, the combination of an intense therapy session, Kurt’s caresses and the cat’s purring was enough to send him into a nap. He shook his head; Blaine always needed extra sleep, so he wasn’t about to wake him up. Eyeing the cat, Kurt got to his feet. “Keep an eye on him,” he grumbled, heading for the bays. He might as well get some work done while he was here.</p><p>
  <strong>(The cat is declared as belonging to Blaine although she hangs around the garage a lot. Her name is Mama. There's been issues with Blaine's parents as well, and he now has a restraining order against them. Anyway school starts and Blaine's introduction to ND is much smoother, because everyone already knew him and liked him and knew he was gonna be there. Now they're looking into doing a musical with Artie in charge again.)</strong>
</p><p>Blaine looked up from his lunch, a little startled by Artie’s laughter. He narrowed his eyes at the boy, eyeing the familiar yellow notebook a little skeptically. “Whatcha reading?”</p><p>Artie looked up, eyes shining behind his glasses and with a grin that could light the entire room. “A Very Potter Musical,” he answered. The rest of the group just stared at him, and Blaine let his head drop to the table with a thunk. “Oh, come on, Birdie!” Artie laughed. “This is great!”</p><p>“Kuuurrt,” Blaine whined, not lifting his head. “Why?”</p><p>“Artie was looking for a musical for this year,” Kurt said innocently, taking a bite of his salad. “He was thinking about doing West Side Story, but I said you had a few original works so…” he shrugged. </p><p>“Wait, you write musicals?” Rachel asked, blinking big eyes. Clearly, she was thinking of her own future there, and hoping he’d write a play with her as the lead. </p><p>“But why that one?” Blaine asked, tilting his head to the side to shoot a glare at his husband-boyfriend and ignoring Rachel completely. “There are so many better ones.”</p><p>“I’ve always wanted to see this one performed,” Kurt smiled, reaching out to pat Blaine’s back. “And, honestly, I would die to be able to play Malfoy.”</p><p>Blaine frowned, raising an eyebrow. “You want to roll around on the ground talking about Pig Farts?” he asked incredulously. Kurt laughed, giving another shrug. The others at the table were all staring at him wide-eyed at this point, Artie still snickering to himself as he turned the pages of the notebook. Blaine sighed, sitting up and pushing his lunch aside. “Look, I was on so many pain killers when I wrote that thing. So many. I was so high.”</p><p>Artie nodded to himself. “That explains a lot,” he muttered, still laughing. “But it’s still great, and I’d love to do this for our musical this year.”</p><p>Blaine groaned. “That’s so embarrassing,” he mumbled. </p><p>Artie grinned at him, setting the notebook aside and pulling out one of his own. He dug around in his bag for a pen for a moment. “Okay, so I can tell that you wrote the part of Harry for yourself,” he said. And honestly, he didn’t blame Blaine for that, because he’d write himself into the main role of a musical too. Especially if he were stuck in the hospital at the time of writing it. “But I kind of got the feeling that the parts of Hermione and Ron were written for specific people too.”</p><p>Blaine slumped a little, sighing. He studied the table for a moment, feeling the eyes of his friends. “Right. I did. Um…” Kurt’s hand was on the back of his neck, and he jumped a little, startled by the touch. Great, he was getting twitchy again. “I wrote the parts for my two friends from Westerville High. We did everything together and were often compared to Harry, Hermione and Ron.” He swallowed heavily. “Ron was supposed to be for Tyler. And Hermione was for Nancy. Nancy moved to Colorado after the dance and Tyler…well…” He shrugged.</p><p>Artie winced a little, tapping his pen against the notebook. Those obviously weren’t good memories. “Well…if we were to do this musical, who would you cast for the main roles? We’ll hold auditions, of course, but as the writer, you would probably have a better idea than I would.”</p><p>Blaine sighed again, allowing himself to lean back into Kurt’s touch. “Hmm…well, myself as Harry. Sam as Ron. Rachel as Hermione. Kurt as Malfoy.” He paused, thinking; the rest of the parts weren’t as easily cast. “Um…Finn and Puck as Quirrell and Voldemort, respectively. Santana as Bellatrix. Tina as Lavender Brown and Quinn as Cho Chang.” He frowned to himself. “Mike as Cedric Diggory. And Brittney as Ginny.” He shrugged again, glancing at Artie, who was writing all this down. “I don’t know who to get as Snape or Dumbledore, though. Or anyone else, for that matter.” </p><p>“That’s fine,” Artie said, still grinning. “This is going to be so good,” he muttered to himself. </p><p>Blaine huffed, looking down the table at the rest of the glee club with an apologetic smile. “For the record, I was so high when I wrote this. Please don’t hold it against me.”</p><p>
  <strong>(They do the auditions and everyone gets the parts that Blaine said they would. The whole ordeal with Michael Jackson music starts happening and ND--because of Kurt and Blaine--decide to invite the Warblers to McKinley for a jamming sessions. Just for fun. And to invite them to the musical. Sebastian is making his moves and freaking Blaine out, because he realizes just how creepy the guy is, since he's not as oblivious this time around.)</strong>
</p><p> Blaine blinked at the group in front of him, a little shocked. “Well…that was…flattering,” he said slowly. And it was, kind of, the fact that they’d put on an entire number telling him they wanted him back. Granted, last time he’d been so flustered and anxious over Sebastian’s behavior that he hadn’t realized just how much effort had gone into the song. He glanced over to where David, Nick and Jeff were leaning against a wall, looking for all the world annoyed and bored at the same time. “Did you guys not explain why I left?” he asked.</p><p>“We tried,” David said blandly, glaring at Sebastian. Yeah, he was definitely upset over the usurping of the Council. “They weren’t listening.” Trent and Thad both gave offended huffs, clearly having heard the explanation and listened to it, but David waved them off. The rest of the group looked as though they hadn’t cared to even figure out why Blaine had left in the first place. In fact, by the glares being sent Kurt’s way, it was clear that they blamed him.</p><p>Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Look, I talked to your parents. They said—”</p><p>Blaine cut him off, a little frantically. “You talked to my parents?!” he asked, taking one step back. David, Nick and Jeff all straightened, eyes cutting to Sebastian in a way that made it clear that they hadn’t been aware of that plan.</p><p>“They said they only asked you to do two things,” Sebastian continued, eyes narrowing.</p><p>“Yeah. Sign over my inheritance and go die in a ditch,” Blaine countered, nerves turning into anger. “Forgive me if I’d rather not.”</p><p>Kurt stepped forward, placing a hand against the small of Blaine’s back and ignoring the narrowed glare he got from Sebastian for it. “To be fair, I’m pretty sure that second thing is for you to dump me and be straight.”</p><p>Blaine rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no. I’d rather go die in a ditch.” He crossed his arms, taking a deep breath and trying to remember what Dr. Stein told him about not letting the anxiety take over. “Okay, here’s the thing. As…misguidedly romantic as it would be to move schools just to be with Kurt, I’m terrified of public school and would much rather be here at Dalton. No offense, Kurt,” Blaine stated.</p><p>“None taken,” Kurt said, with just a hint of amusement. Last time around, Blaine had transferred just to be with Kurt, after all. In retrospect, that might have been a bit of a mistake, but oh well. </p><p>“I have a restraining order out against my parents. Don’t involve them again,” Blaine said, his voice low. Rachel and Santana shuffled a little behind them, not having known about the restraining order beforehand. Artie had known, but that was only because he’d been there for some of the threatening phone calls. “I’m not here at Dalton this year because of financial issues that came with me being emancipated. I’m on a strict budget for the next two years, and private school was out of the question. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to leave.”</p><p>“We did try to tell you guys,” Nick said softly from behind the group of Warblers. “Next time you should listen.”</p><p>“Righto,” Artie said after the guilty silence stretched on a little too long. Sebastian didn’t look guilty in the least, just a bit intrigued and annoyed by Kurt’s presence. “We’re also here to invite you to a jamming session at McKinley next Friday.”</p><p>“So, a sing-off to decide who gets to do MJ at Sectionals?” Sebastian drawled, mouth quirking in a smirk.</p><p>Blaine’s brow furrowed as he frowned. “Did we say that?” he asked, glancing around the group. “No. A jamming session. You know, for fun?”</p><p>Sebastian leaned forward, clearly too far into Blaine’s personal space. “You sure you even know how to have fun?” he asked, sneering just a little at Kurt over Blaine’s shoulder. “Your tickle-me-dough-face doesn’t look like someone who would indulge that.”</p><p>Kurt raised an eyebrow, steadying Blaine as he leaned back further into him, trying to subtly move away from the taller Warbler. “Please back up. You smell like Craigslist.”</p><p>Sebastian scoffed, stepping back. “Fine. We’ll go to your school and show you guys up and call it a good time or whatever.” He waved a hand, rather imperiously. “Anything else?”<br/>“Holy crap,” Blaine muttered, leaning even further into Kurt. “Was he this terrifying last time?”</p><p>“Yes,” Kurt whispered back. He watched absently as Santana negotiated something with Jeff (that friendship would always and forever scare him). </p><p>Blaine huffed a little, twisting his fingers with Kurt’s. “Probably why I always felt seconds away from a panic attack when he was around,” he murmured, and Kurt shot him a worried look. To be honest, Blaine looked seconds away from a panic attack now. He glanced over to where David was watching the two of them with a concerned look and waved the boy off. Blaine would be fine once they left. He’d make sure of it.</p><p>
  <strong>(Okay, here we get another big jump. They have their jamming session, and Sebastian actually brings the tainted slushie, but Blaine grabs it from him before it can be thrown. A very frank talk happens after that. The musical happens and it goes very well. Well enough that the sequel musical is planned and performed in the spring. This next part actually starts in season three. Kurt has graduated and is getting ready to go to the pilot episode of Project Runway Junior. Sam's dad got a chance of an exchange job program in Holland (there's a name for those but I forget), and Sam is staying with the Hudmel family for the year, since his family will be back after that year. Finn is taking classes at the nearby college while being a teaching assistant. Rachel is living in New York, but Kurt didn't follow, since he has plans for Project Runway.)</strong>
</p><p>“Geez,” Blaine grumbled, contemplating throwing his phone at the wall. He couldn’t afford a new one right now though, and as satisfying as breaking it would be, it really wouldn’t help matters.</p><p>“What’s wrong, Birdie?” Sam asked, slinging an arm around his shoulder and snagging the phone from his hand. He read the message on the screen and frowned. “This that one guy again?” he asked.</p><p>“Yeah,” Blaine sighed, slumping against Sam and ignoring his friend’s grunt at the added weight. “No matter how many times I block him, he always comes back with a new number and those creepy texts. I’ve got him blocked on Facebook and Twitter and Instagram and everything. He’s freaking stalking me or something.”</p><p>Sam’s frown deepened. “What’s Kurt got to say about it?” he asked, because if he hadn’t known the whole story, then those texts would look really, really bad. Even with Blaine not answering back, this guy was being incredibly forward and a little too comfortable. As though he personally knew Blaine.</p><p>“Kurt wanted to get the authorities involved,” Blaine said with a shrug, which caused a few other glee members to start paying attention to their conversation. “But when we tried, they said they couldn’t do anything. I’ve never met the guy, I have no idea what he looks like, or even what his last name is. And the Warblers I’ve talked to have no idea who he is either. Despite him saying he got my number from one of them.” </p><p>“Wait, hold up,” Artie said, rolling forward and eyeing the two of them. “Are you saying you’re being stalked?”</p><p>Sam nodded, handing Blaine back his phone. “Yeah. Blainers keeps getting creepy messages from some dude he’s never met. He keeps blocking him, but the guy’s persistent.” </p><p>Artie was silent for a moment and then sighed. “You sure this doesn’t have something to do with your parents?” he asked softly, and Blaine froze for a moment. Because that hadn’t occurred to him. To be honest, he was probably going to have to go back and rethink a lot about his senior year last time around, now, which wasn’t something he especially wanted to do.</p><p>“I…don’t know,” Blaine muttered.</p><p>Kitty scoffed, loudly. “Right, like prep-boy here has anything to worry about. You afraid your parents are going to cut your allowance?” she grumbled, loud enough to be heard by everyone. Blaine sank against Sam a bit more, not willing to get in an argument with Kitty, despite knowing exactly what he’d have to say to her.</p><p>Tina, though, was more than willing to fight for him. “Prep-school boy,” she drawled sarcastically, eyes narrowed at the blond and boring into her, “doesn’t go to prep school anymore, Kitty. Ever wonder why? Or why he lives above a garage with Kurt and not with his parents? Surely you have a brain under all that hair of yours, or did the bleach damage it too much?”</p><p>“Tina,” Blaine warned softly. </p><p>“That’s enough,” Mr. Schue said, eyes narrowed as he clapped his hands and gained the attention of the class. “We don’t tear each other down in here. We don’t pry into each other’s lives. We don’t fight, or bully, or gossip. Blaine, see me after class and we can see if we can do more about this guy that’s bothering you. Kitty, if you can’t keep your volatile comments to yourself, then you can leave. We don’t need that attitude in here. Tina, thank you for defending your friend, but you can be nicer about it.”</p><p>~*~</p><p>“Blaine, baby,” Kurt murmured, curling around Blaine on the bed. He was reading the latest text from Eli and grimaced at the forwardness of it. “How did you meet Eli last time?” he asked. He’d never asked before, even when they’d talked after getting back together. </p><p>“Oh geez,” Blaine whispered. “Um…” He had to stop and think. Because even with perfect recall from the wishes, he hadn’t been in a good spot back then and his memory was still a little fuzzy. “I don’t know? He contacted me. A couple times, I think.” He frowned, pressing backwards against Kurt. “Uh…let’s see. Hmm…I ignored him the first couple times, but then you weren’t answering and my parents…well…and school was awful and there was a guy who seemed to want to pay attention to me so I answered him back.”</p><p>Kurt nodded a little, frowning softly as he dropped Blaine’s phone onto the bed and wrapped his arms around the boy, snuggling him to his chest. Blaine made the perfect little spoon and Kurt reveled in it. “Did you ever talk in person before you met up with him that night?” he asked softly.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Blaine,” Kurt nearly gasped. “That’s so dangerous.” Because from these texts that Blaine was getting this time around, Eli wasn’t coming across as the most stable person in the world.</p><p>Blaine twisted just enough to frown at Kurt, and Kurt got it. Blaine hadn’t been in a good state when he’d made the decision to meet up with Eli that time. In fact, he’d been in a very suicidal state of mind and had made plenty of plans and Eli was part of that. So no, Blaine hadn’t really cared much about the danger of the situation.</p><p>“Sorry, baby,” Kurt whispered, pressing a kiss to Blaine’s shoulder. “Have you blocked that number too?” he asked.</p><p>“Yeah,” Blaine sighed, settling back down against him. “I’m to the point that I’m thinking of just changing my number,” he admitted. “But I don’t know how Eli got it in the first place, so…”</p><p>“And changing your number is going to cost more,” Kurt pointed out. Blaine’s budget was so tight right now, and Kurt moving in had only helped on a superficial front. Especially because Kurt hadn’t taken a job right now, since he’d be heading to New York for the Project Runway pilot soon. And, if he managed to get into the competition, he’d be gone for a few months starting in mid-December. </p><p>Blaine hummed softly. “I don’t want to think about it right now,” he admitted. “When are you going to New York?” he asked, twisting in Kurt’s arms so he could rest his head on Kurt’s chest. </p><p>“Week and a half,” Kurt murmured, although he knew that Blaine already knew this. Kurt was just glad that the show was paying for his ticket and hotel for the pilot. With any luck he’d get onto the show itself, even though that would mean being away from Blaine for about two months. “Did you know,” he said softly, “that our marriage certificate has a date on it?”</p><p>“Of course it does,” Blaine said, rolling his eyes even as he smiled. “Isn’t it the date that we came back?” It had been, the last time he’d seen the document.</p><p>Kurt blinked down at him. “No. I never told you?” When Blaine glanced up at him, he let his eyebrows rise in surprise. “I thought I told you,” he murmured. “Huh. No. The date changed a while ago. It’s now just a couple weeks after your next birthday.”</p><p>Blaine stared at him for a long moment, and then smiled slow and sappy. “So, we’re going to be officially married in a few months?” he asked, sounding so very pleased by that thought.</p><p>“We’ve been married for a few years now, baby,” Kurt replied, his hand sliding up Blaine’s back to tangle in the loose curls at the base of his neck. “I’ve considered us married since our last wedding. There is no ‘til death do we part’ for us, B.”</p><p>Blaine sighed, soft and content. “That’s true.” He settled back down, his ear right over Kurt’s heart. “My soulmate. But now we’ll have a document that proves it…or we can at least show that document. Although,” and Kurt could feel his grin against his chest, “that means we’ll be married while I’m still in high school,” Blaine pointed out.</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes. “I hadn’t considered that,” he groaned. “How tacky.”</p><p>Blaine laughed. “Honestly, though,” he whispered. “It’s our fourth anniversary this month.” And it was, kind of, which made them wonder a little if they would have to change their celebrations to when their marriage document said their official date was going to be. Or how that was going to work at all? Because, honestly, he couldn’t see Burt agreeing with Blaine and Kurt getting married when one of them was still in school, both of them being nineteen or not. Burt had barely agreed with the boys living together despite being legal adults—although they had a feeling that had more to do with them leaving the house and not that they were living together. </p><p>
  <strong>(Just a little jump here. Kurt's in New York at this point for the pilot.)</strong>
</p><p>“Welcome to Hummel Tire and Lube,” Blaine said, not looking up from the paperwork he was finishing. “How can I help you?”</p><p>“Well, if it isn’t Blaine Anderson in the flesh,” a voice drawled, and Blaine froze. He knew that voice, from Before. He glanced up from the paperwork, frowning at Eli, who was grinning down at him. “It’s nice to finally be able to meet you.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Blaine said softly, backing up a pace, despite the counter between the two of them. “Do I know you?”</p><p>“Oh sexy, don’t be like that,” Eli pouted, and Blaine’s frown deepened. “We’ve been texting for weeks.”</p><p>Blaine held up a hand, shaking his head. “Wait. Are you the guy that keeps messaging me? Didn’t I tell you to stop? Block your number? Multiple times? Why on earth would you think that I wanted to meet you after that?”</p><p>Eli smirked, leaning heavily on the counter. “I like a guy who plays hard to get.”</p><p>“I’m not playing anything. I’m unavailable. I’m in a very happy relationship and I want you to leave me alone.” Blaine slipped out from behind the counter, skirting around Eli and heading for the breakroom, hoping the ‘staff only’ sign on the door would keep Eli away from him. </p><p>It didn’t.</p><p>“Happy relationship with who? Your boyfriend? The one who left you for New York?” Eli said, voice lowering, stalking behind him with a very unsettling look in his eye. “Look, he doesn’t even have to know. Who would tell him? He’s not here.”</p><p>Blaine groaned, turning and gesturing sharply with one hand. “Leave, would you? I’m not interested. Go away. I don’t even want to know how you found me here, but I do want you to leave. You’re not even allowed back here.” He really wished that one of the other workers was in here, he didn’t want to have to escape to the bays. Also, he wished that Mama was present, because she would have much to say about an intruder in her territory, especially one that had just grabbed Blaine’s wrist and tugged him closer.</p><p>“Come on, I know you want me,” Eli whispered, his grip tightening as Blaine struggled against him, hissing in pain at the tight grip. </p><p>“I really, really don’t,” Blaine said, stomping down on Eli’s foot when he couldn’t get away. Eli shouldn’t have been this strong, it was a little uncanny.</p><p>“Hunter said you lived off attention,” Eli replied, hissing in pain but not letting go. He shuffled a little instead, yanking Blaine with him. “I’ve seen the recordings. You’re something special, and I want a taste.”</p><p>Blaine’s brow furrowed. Hunter? What did he have to do with this? He hadn’t even met the kid yet, not in this timeline anyway. And recordings? The ones he’d done with the Warblers? Over a year ago? He struggled a little against Eli, trying to work his brain around this new information, and came to the conclusion that this was all really more complicated than he wanted to deal with. Especially with Eli leaning down to force a kiss on him.</p><p>Blaine twisted, Eli’s mouth connecting with his cheek instead, and he brought his knee up to violently slam into Eli’s groin. The man groaned, doubling over and nearly falling. He did not, however, let go of Blaine, who did fall with the movement. Eli staggered under Blaine’s weight, groaning and swearing, suddenly much more angry.</p><p>Eli swore viciously and yanked at Blaine’s arm, knocking the two of them into the table and sending it crashing to the ground. Blaine hissed, kicking out and still trying to get his arm out of Eli’s grasp. The man seemed to have inhuman strength though, given all that Blaine had already done to try and get away.</p><p>The steroids.</p><p>Right. Blaine suddenly remembered that when it came out that Hunter had been plying the Warblers with the drugs, he’d gotten them from his cousin. Eli’s last name started with ‘C’, that’s all Blaine ever knew about him, but if Eli was in contact with Hunter than there was a good chance that Eli was in fact the cousin that had been Hunter’s supplier. </p><p>There was a hand at his throat and another at his belt, and Blaine bucked a bit, refusing to freeze up. Eli was muttering angrily that he’d been promised that Blaine would be his if he’d just kept at it. That Blaine would relish the attention and turn to him instead of that boyfriend of his. That he could get the boy and the cash and all would be good.</p><p>What cash?</p><p>Blaine fought. He had the wish backing him up, because there was no way he was giving Eli what he wanted, but the man was strong, and Blaine was pretty sure his shoulder had been dislocated when he’d fallen. The pain was definitely something, but he still wasn’t letting Eli get the upper hand, and he wasn’t being very quiet about it either. </p><p>Which was a good thing, because suddenly the door to the bays was flung open and twenty pounds of very angry cat was attaching itself to Eli’s face. He fell back, screaming and flailing as Mama hung on, digging her claws in and hissing and spitting. Blaine scrambled backwards, behind Jim’s towering form, pretty much dragging his right arm as it wasn’t working properly. </p><p>It was pretty chaotic for a long moment, as Dirk worked to wrestle Mama away from Eli, and Blaine tried to catch his breath and not catapult himself directly into a panic attack (that wasn’t working out so well, he’d started internally panicking the moment Eli had shown up). Eventually, they had Mama off the man, and the cat slinked over to where Blaine was and started delicately licking blood off her paws. Blaine watched her with wide eyes, not even noticing that Burt was on the phone with the police or that Jim was crouched in front of him, trying to get his attention.</p><p>Burt kneeled down in front of Blaine, ignoring the man behind him moaning and screeching about his eye. Dirk had him well in hand, but Burt really needed to know what had happened. The police would be there soon and would want statements as well, but…well. Blaine didn’t look like he was in any condition to speak to a stranger. Or even Burt himself, if he was honest.</p><p>“Kid’s hurt,” Jim muttered, motioning to Blaine’s arm. Blaine didn’t seem to notice, his left arm wrapped around Mama and his face buried in her fur. His breathing was wrong, indicating a panic attack. And panic usually meant a lack of English. It had been a long, long time since Burt had seen Blaine so badly affected by anything. He’d been doing extremely well lately.</p><p>“Right,” Burt muttered. “I’ll call Carole. See if we can keep him away from the hospital. And I’ll have her bring Sam.” Because Sam had a way of cutting through Blaine’s panic and getting his English back that even Kurt hadn’t accomplished. Granted, Kurt didn’t seem to need Blaine to speak English to get him to calm down, he just went with whatever language the boy was speaking. But Sam would be good, since they couldn’t get to Kurt anyway. </p><p>Carole, Sam and the police arrived at about the same time. And the police were rather intuitive, as they took one look at the situation and sent a female officer over to talk with Blaine. Blaine still wasn’t talking much, but he was whispering to Sam, Mama still held firmly with his good arm. Carole was looking him over, frowning at his dislocated shoulder and muttering about how she needed to fix that or he’d have to go to the hospital. </p><p>Which…hospitals weren’t good for Blaine. He tended to panic when he had to be in them. Even just visiting would set him off, so it would be best if they could keep him out.</p><p>Through Sam, they managed to get Blaine’s side of the story. And when the officer asked if they’d tried to get the authorities involved earlier, since this was obviously a case of stalking and coercement and assault, she’d gotten an earful from both Carole and Burt. They’d tried and been told nothing could be done. Blaine wasn’t a minor and there wasn’t enough information. The officer had quickly apologized and finished up. There was nothing scarier than Mama-Bear Carole and Papa-Bear Burt.</p><p>Granted, all the officers were incredibly respectful of Burt, considering they’d all worked with him before. It was part of what made him such a successful congressman, people not only respected him, but they downright liked him. Even those that didn’t agree with his politics had little to say against his character. So, when the paramedics (called in by the police when they’d seen Eli’s condition) asked if they could take Blaine, and Burt said they had it under control, they left him to it. </p><p>And, when Carole’s ministrations towards Blaine’s arm left the boy in tears, and Sam seemed completely reluctant to leave without him, Burt gathered up his soon-to-be son-in-law (because he was under no illusions about where his son’s relationship was going with this boy) and the monster cat, and took them home. </p><p>He had a phone call with Kurt tonight that he was suddenly not looking forward to.</p><p>~*~</p><p>“Dad! Dad! Dad!” Kurt said excitedly over the phone, nearly jumping on the bed of the hotel room he was set up in. “I got in! I did it! I’m part of the competition!” </p><p>“That’s great son!” Burt said, sounding excited for him. But there was something a little off about his voice.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” Kurt asked, frowning and settling immediately. “Is it your health? Are Finn and Carole alright? Is something wrong with Blaine?”</p><p>“It’s Blaine,” Burt sighed, wondering again just how in tune Kurt was with those he loved. “He’s okay. Or mostly okay, but there was an incident at the garage today.”</p><p>Kurt had frozen at the sound of his husband-boyfriend’s name. And the ‘mostly okay’ kind of threw him. Mostly okay usually meant that Blaine had had a breakdown of some sort, which hadn’t happened in ages so… “Dad, I really don’t like the way you’re wording this. What happened?”</p><p>“That Eli guy showed up,” Burt grumbled. “Kurt there’s a lot more to this story than we thought.”</p><p>Kurt frowned, his fingers drumming on the bedspread. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“You have to understand that Blaine didn’t have much idea of what was going on, only that this guy was bothering him,” Burt said. “And the confession we got from Eli is a little convoluted because he was high on drugs at the hospital. Mama nearly took out his eye.”</p><p>“Dad, this isn’t helping,” Kurt said, starting to feel a little anxious. He really needed to know that Blaine was okay. He really wished that he was back in Ohio right now, even if he had desperately missed New York. </p><p>“Eli attacked Blaine. Blaine fought back. Mama ended the fight. Blaine had a dislocated shoulder and a few bruises. His wrist is strained, possibly sprained. Eli has a broken foot, a lot of bruises, and Mama nearly took out his eye when she clawed up his face.” Burt was blunt, his tone gruff but caring. He knew that Kurt needed the ‘what’ first, before they got into the ‘why’. </p><p>“Oh God,” Kurt whispered, sucking in a deep breath. “Where’s Blaine now?” Because if Eli had attacked him at the garage than that meant that Eli had known where Blaine lived. Which would mean that Blaine would know that, and that he likely would have not wanted to be home alone. </p><p>“He’s curled up in bed with Sam right now,” Burt answered. “Upstairs, in Sam’s room.”</p><p>“God, I love Sam,” Kurt murmured. “Now. Tell me what the heck happened.”</p><p>“Okay. Again, this doesn’t make much sense to me, but the guy was on some pretty heavy drugs,” Burt grumbled.</p><p>“Wait, Mama isn’t going to get in trouble, is she?” Kurt asked, suddenly worried. If anything happened to that cat Blaine would be devastated. </p><p>“No,” Burt said. “She was defending her owner. The officer actually recommended we buy her a salmon.” He sighed. “Anyway. To continue. Apparently, the guy, Eli Clarington, was being paid to try and get Blaine to sleep with him. The people paying him were hoping that the two of you would break up. When Blaine wasn’t interested, they paid Eli more to go ahead and do it anyway, with the hope that Blaine would take himself out of the competition afterwards.”</p><p>“Competition?” Kurt mumbled, feeling incredibly confused. “And someone was paying them to break us up? I don’t get it.”</p><p>Burt heaved a heavy sigh and Kurt could practically feel the frustration and sadness over the phone. “Apparently it all started with Eli’s cousin contacting him about getting the two of you two break up so that Blaine would be off his game for show choir sectionals. He’s a Warbler or something. And then Blaine’s parents got involved. They know that Blaine used to be suicidal, since the counselor at Dalton was required to tell them when he was still living with them. They upped the ante and offered to pay more if Eli would take Blaine whether Blaine wanted it or not. They thought that if they could get you to break up with Blaine over Eli, than Blaine might just go back to his old ways, and he’d take himself out and they would then get control of his inheritance.”</p><p>Kurt was silent for a long time. He had to be, in order to control his breathing and get his anger under control. “All of this started because of show choir? And his parents…” He stopped again, his fingers tightening around his phone. He wanted to break something. “They wouldn’t get anything anyway. Blaine wrote up a will already. It was one of the first things we did when we met with his lawyers last summer.”</p><p>Burt sighed. “Kiddo, I’m really proud of you getting on that show. And despite everything that’s happening, I want you to stick with it. We’ll take care of Blaine while you’re gone.”</p><p>“I’ll be home for a few weeks before filming begins,” Kurt said softly. He wanted to cry, because this Project Runway gig was everything he’d been hoping for, but now it just seemed like it would be throwing Blaine in the lurch again. And just when things were looking good again. </p><p>“And you’ll go back to filming,” Burt said sternly. “Sam can stay with Blaine while you’re gone. Or Blaine can stay here for a few weeks. I’m sure the lawyers will understand. And you know that Blaine would feel guilty if you decided to quit on his behalf.” That was true; Blaine would indeed feel guilty if Kurt stayed in Ohio just because of what was going on with him.</p><p>“Does Blaine know all of this?” Kurt asked. “About the Warblers and his parents?”</p><p>“Yes,” Burt said, and Kurt wasn’t surprised. His dad had always subscribed to the idea that secrets weren’t healthy, and that full honesty was the only way to go. “He says he wants to go talk to the Warblers himself. And talk to Headmaster Reynolds about Eli’s cousin.”</p><p>“Dad…this really sucks,” Kurt grunted, dropping backwards onto the bed. </p><p>“It does.” Burt was silent for a moment. “However, you just got onto one of your favorite tv shows. Tell me all about it.”</p><p>Kurt sighed and then did as his father said, feeling his excitement slowly come back. Blaine was safe, he was being taken care of (and gee, he really owed Sam another cake. Or three.) and everything would work out. They’d get their Happily Ever After if they had to fight the entire way to it.</p><p>~*~</p><p>The Nationals trophy was missing. That was the first thing that Blaine noticed when he made it to the choir room. His arm was in a sling, his face was bruised, and his wrist was wrapped. He was tired and shaky and altogether feeling rougher than he had in months. And the trophy was missing because the Warblers had stolen it.</p><p>He pulled his phone from his pocket and texted Trent and Thad. And then he learned that Trent had quit the Warblers two weeks earlier, due to not being able to handle Hunter, and Thad was well on his way to quitting as well. What had happened? He sent another quick text, asking Thad and Trent to meet him outside of Dalton in an hour. </p><p>Blaine ignored the looks he was getting, because frankly he knew he looked like crap. He probably should have taken Burt’s offer of staying home from school, but he really didn’t want to just be sitting around waiting all day. Sam would still be going to school, after all, and Kurt wasn’t due back until later that evening. (And then they were going to celebrate Kurt getting on the show, despite not being able to tell anyone else about it.)</p><p>Blaine sighed, sliding the phone back into his pocket. And then he crouched down, hiding his face in his arm as he counted his breaths for a moment. Sam’s hand was on his back, and the entire room had gone silent, except for some muted whispers from the newer members.</p><p>“Birdie?” Artie asked, rolling closer. “You okay?”</p><p>“Give me a moment,” Blaine muttered, still mentally counting. His hand was in his mouth, and that bothered him a little, but it was more grounding than it had any right to be. Especially considering the spike of pain from his shoulder and wrist at even moving his hand—and why was it always his right hand that he had to chew on anyway?</p><p>Sam was pulling his hand from his mouth, frowning at him. “Blaine.”</p><p>“I’ve seen you take on half the hockey team,” Artie said, frowning as well and lightly reaching out to touch Blaine’s sling with careful fingers. Blaine was acting much like had last year, when things were still shaky with his mental health and he’d been so skittish with touch. “It was spectacular. Why was this so different?”</p><p>“The hockey team wasn’t pumped up on steroids and being paid to rape me,” Blaine said bluntly, giving a huff and straightening back to his full height. The room fell silent at his proclamation and he groaned softly, swinging out his uninjured arm in a gesture meant to wave it all away. “Whatever. I’m going to Dalton to get our trophy back. Sam…can you drive me?”</p><p>“Sure, man,” Sam answered softly. He sounded almost sad. He looked over to Finn. “Yo. Finn?”</p><p>“I’ll have Dad call you both out. You know he wanted to anyway,” Finn said, pulling his phone out. “Drive safe.”</p><p>They did drive safely, if silently. Sam didn’t bother questioning Blaine, and Blaine didn’t bother with speaking at all. To be honest, he felt like he was saving up his English for his planned talk with Headmaster Reynolds and the Warblers. If he thought too long and hard about it, he was pretty sure he’d lose the ability to handle the language at all. </p><p>He desperately wanted Kurt.</p><p>Love blossomed in his chest, starting at his heart and expanding outward in an invisible hug. He smiled a little, feeling just a little bit better. It wasn’t much, but it was all that he could get at the moment so it would suffice. </p><p>He left Sam at the car, where he was working on an English essay, and met with Trent and Thad. The two of them had plenty of evidence of Hunter’s steroid use and his plying of the other Warblers into using them. There was also proof of blackmail and threats that Thad had been collecting. Trent had quit the Warblers when Hunter had threatened him, not taking ‘no’ as an answer in response to the steroids. </p><p>Both his friends were completely shocked by his appearance, and when hearing that Hunter had something to do with it, they were livid. It was more than enough to get them on board with trying to get Hunter out of the school—they’d had enough of the boy as it was. Trent was sure to give Blaine a big hug before actually entering the building though; he could see how shaky Blaine was feeling.</p><p>The meeting with Headmaster Reynolds went about as well as Blaine had thought it would. He’d been upset, even more so when it came out that Thad and Trent had known to some degree what was going on in the Warblers. Granted, no one had known about Eli, or about the money being passed around, or about Blaine’s parents being contacted. No one had known about the plan involving Blaine at all, which was good for them, but Hunter wasn’t going to be staying at Dalton long. </p><p>It was a good thing that Headmaster Reynolds had such a soft spot for Blaine, all told. He’d caused a lot of turmoil among the Warblers since leaving, without even having to do anything at all. Granted, the promised scholarship fund that they were in the process of setting up probably helped, as well as the future donation to upgrade the school’s wiring. (Blaine wasn’t about to let the school burn down this time. Faulty wiring was not going to destroy the place that had helped him become someone better.)</p><p>Blaine silently made his way down the hall to where the Warblers meeting room was. The choir was supposed to be meeting now, and Thad was officially late, but he didn’t think that would matter much when all was said and done. The room, predictably, went silent when the three of them (Trent deciding to come along) entered. </p><p>“Blaine Anderson,” Hunter drawled, much like his cousin had, and Blaine had to hold back a shudder. </p><p>“Hunter Clarington,” Blaine responded, his voice soft and a little bland. “Sorry to say that I’m not pleased to meet you.”</p><p>Hunter’s eyebrow rose. “Oh?” He seemed amused even as he eyed the sling and the bruises.</p><p>“Considering you paid your cousin to try and get me and Kurt to break up? And then looked the other way when he got my parents involved and they paid him to rape me?” Blaine asked, eyes roving over the pale faces of the other Warblers. He didn’t recognize most of them. It didn’t really matter. They all looked sick and cowed and terrified of Hunter. Even Sebastian, which was a little odd—last time around, hadn’t Sebastian been working with Hunter to try and get Blaine back? </p><p>“It didn’t work, obviously,” Blaine muttered, shaking his head. “I don’t know what your deal is, but it’s over anyway.”</p><p>“Hardly,” Hunter said, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. “We have pictures that prove you’ve been cheating on Kurt. He’s not going to be happy about it. Let’s see you be able to keep your little diversity club together when they realize just who you are. McKinley’s not going to be much of a threat at Sectionals after that.”</p><p>Blaine rose an eyebrow, tilting his head to one side. “Pictures?” He asked. Because he hadn’t been cheating, and that was obvious. Especially not with Eli—Kurt had been with him for just about every part of that roller coaster, except for the final drop.</p><p>Hunter grinned a smarmy grin and dropped a stack of photographs on the desk between them. The Council table, actually, and Blaine was a little annoyed that the Council had once again been usurped. Honestly, he didn’t blame Trent for quitting. He rifled through the photos and sighed. “You’re really, really bad at stalking,” he muttered, fingering one of the photos of him and Sam eating ice cream together. </p><p>The photos of the two of them at school in the hallways of McKinley made him frown, though. As had the photos of them leaving his apartment above the garage. Because that meant that someone from his school had been the one to take them. And that, likely, Eli had figured out where he lived because of them.</p><p>“Who took the photos?” he asked, curious despite not really wanting to know. </p><p>“My cousin’s boyfriend’s sister,” Hunter said, sounding a little triumphant. Clearly, he thought he had Blaine on a tether.</p><p>Thad looked over Blaine’s shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Oh hey. That’s Sam. How’s he doing?”</p><p>“He’s fine,” Blaine answered simply. “Still trying to make things work with Mercedes. Long-distance relationships are hard, though.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Trent said thoughtfully, carefully watching Hunter’s expression. “I remember the withdrawals David went through. Not pretty.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Blaine hummed, feeling a little detached. He was starting to drift a little, he realized. Dr. Stein wasn’t going to be very pleased with him, what with all the backtracking he seemed to be doing this week. Not that he didn’t have a good reason. “You have a lot of cousins, Mr. Clarington,” he said softly. “What’s this cousin’s boyfriend’s sister’s name?”</p><p>“Kitty Wilde,” Hunter said, now looking a little confused. </p><p>“Right,” Blaine nodded. He gathered up the pictures and slid them into his sling. “Right. So. As I said before, you don’t make a good stalker if you don’t know who Sam is. Or who he is to me. And Kurt. But it doesn’t really matter anyway because your time with the Warblers is done.”</p><p>Hunter frowned, but before he could say anything, Dalton security was entering the room and quietly ushering him out. Blaine watched them all impassively and then turned to the remaining Warblers. Thad was standing behind him, arms crossed, glaring down at his teammates. Blaine sighed then, moving forward and grabbing the trophy from where it was resting on the Council table. It had been ignored this whole time.</p><p>“As of right now,” Blaine said softly, turning away from the group. “The Warblers are still in the running for Sectionals. Don’t make me regret not turning you into the authorities. You’re all complicit in what happened to some degree and I’m tired.” He shook his head and walked out, nodding to Trent and Thad and heading for the doors. With any luck, he wouldn’t have to come back to Dalton until after he graduated, and they could work out the details for his donation and scholarship.</p><p>He made his way over to where Sam was seated on a bench, busily texting. Setting the trophy on the ground, Blaine leaned over his friend, sighing softly. “Who you texting?” he asked, resisting the urge to rub his face. </p><p>“Wevid,” Sam said, glancing up. “You okay?”</p><p>“Kinda feel like crying, to be honest,” Blaine muttered. “Let’s go get some lunch and then head back to school. I need to talk to Kitty and we need to return the trophy.”</p><p>Sam nodded, getting to his feet and slinging a gentle arm around Blaine’s shoulders. “You’re gonna be fine, Birdie,” he whispered, leaning closer to Blaine and tightening his hold just a little. Not enough to trap him or hurt his shoulder again. “You’ll get through this, just like everything else.”</p><p>“I’m just tired,” Blaine murmured, leaning against Sam with a sigh and watching as the blond grabbed the trophy. “Of everything, you know?” It didn’t help that he’d hardly slept since Kurt had left, either, even with Sam staying with him last night. </p><p>“Yeah, I know,” Sam breathed sadly, leading Blaine to the car. He knew.</p><p>~*~</p><p>Blaine silently set the trophy back in its case, feeling the eyes of the entirety of the club resting on him. He and Sam had stayed out of classes, only coming back after school to join in with Glee. He’d texted Burt their plans, and the man had agreed to them but only reluctantly. He was of the opinion that Blaine needed to just come home and rest for a bit. <br/>Blaine was feeling too restless for resting.</p><p>“Why’d you take the pictures for Hunter?” Blaine asked quietly, turning to look at Kitty. The rest of the room remained silent, Mr. Schue and Finn frowning darkly in the background. </p><p>Kitty scoffed, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she leaned nonchalantly back in her chair, crossing her legs, and then her arms. “It was funny. I mean, really, you cheating on Hummel? You practically live in the guy’s back pocket. So, when they asked for pictures proving you were cheating, I thought it was funny and decided to go for it. The cash was nice too.”</p><p>Blaine nodded. “Right. It was funny. Only, you knew that I was being harassed by someone and that someone managed to use your photos to find out where I live. And my parents now probably know where I live due to those photos.” He sighed, tired and drawn out. “You never think about the consequences, do you?”</p><p>Kitty’s eyes flashed and she sneered. “Excuse me,” she snapped.</p><p>“Yes, excuse you,” Blaine snapped back, a flash of anger making its way through the apathy. “You think you’re the biggest bitch in this school but you don’t ever seem to realize that your words and deeds have consequences. I could have died, thanks to you taking those photos. Marley is starving herself to death, thanks to your snide comments.” He ignored the way that Marley paled in the background, Ryder and Jake turning to look at her in shock. “Trish in Cheerios has resorted to cutting, because of you. It’s all about you, all the time, and you don’t even seem to care.” </p><p>“Look!” Kitty exclaimed, getting to her feet and stepping forward to get into Blaine’s face. “It’s not my fault if someone can’t take it. Okay?! I’m just trying to survive high school!”</p><p>“Survive!” Blaine laughed, loud and derisive. “You don’t know what it is to try and survive. For you, the worst that can happen is that you don’t end up on top. For me, I end up dead.” He scoffed, pointing straight at her, and wouldn’t Cooper be proud. “Surviving isn’t treating everyone like dirt, Kitty. Surviving is making sure that you don’t end up in the hospital. That you don’t starve in the streets. That you don’t get jumped in the parking lot after a dance just because you dared to be yourself. That you don’t wind up missing your best friend’s funeral because you were stuck in a coma during it.” He shook his head, turning away. He took a deep breath, counting silently in his head, trying to calm down.</p><p>“For your sake, I hope that you learn from this,” he said softly. “Because I am pressing charges against you for the part you played in all this. I’m tired of standing aside and turning the other cheek.” Blaine sighed a little, looking up to see Mr. Schue nod at him, approving of his choice to press charges against Kitty. Good; he’d had a fleeting thought that the man wouldn’t actually support him in his decision. He was happy to see that he was wrong. “Lucky for you, you’re a minor, so maybe it won’t go on your permanent record.”</p><p>Sam was still at his side, he realized, having not even noticed. The others in the club were staring, aghast at everything he’d said. Only Tina, Brittney, Sam and Artie really knew what he’d been through in the past—everyone else had graduated. </p><p>“I’m going home,” Blaine announced, tired and shaky and just wanting to leave.</p><p>“Sectionals is in two weeks,” Joe pointed out, and Artie reached over to smack his knee. </p><p>“I don’t really care about Sectionals right now,” Blaine admitted. Because, honestly, this whole mess started due to Show Choir Competitions and was only escalated by his parents. The last thing he wanted to do right now was worry about actually competing. “Heck, right now, I really don’t care much about Glee.”</p><p>There were low murmurs behind him, and he ignored them, looking to Mr. Schue and Finn instead. Mr. Schue was frowning, but he was nodding as well. “Go home. Get some rest. Come back to glee when you’re ready.”</p><p>“What if I’m not ready for a long time?” he asked, skittering away from Finn’s reaching hand. He knew, of course, that Finn wouldn’t hurt him, but it didn’t really matter at the moment. He was still skirting the edge of absolute panic and had been for the entirety of the day.</p><p>“Blaine!” Tina cried out, sounding completely shocked. “You can’t just abandon us right before sectionals! Kurt wouldn’t want—”</p><p>“Kurt wouldn’t want you to put words in his mouth,” Kurt said from the doorway, and Blaine spun to face him. Kurt looked as put together as he always did, if a little tired. There was a concerned glint to his eye as well, and some residual anger in his stance, but he was there. “If Blaine wants to leave glee for a bit to feel safer than I will stand by his decision. Besides, who am I to dictate what he does?”</p><p>“You’re home early,” Blaine murmured, stepping forward into the comforting embrace of his husband-boyfriend. </p><p>“Caught an earlier flight,” Kurt whispered back, wrapping his arms around Blaine and shielding him from the world. He could feel the minute trembles in Blaine’s shoulders and free hand, the way his breaths didn’t come evenly, and the tension that kept his spine ramrod straight. It had been a bad week, and it would probably be a bad night, but he was here now, and he could at least do his best to help.</p><p><strong>(During that same time-frame, right around when Kurt's about to go back to New York.)</strong><br/>His hands fluttered down Kurt’s chest, a little shaky, until Kurt caught them. “Baby?” Kurt murmured into his temple. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”</p><p>Blaine let out a breath, pressing closer to Kurt, trying to soak him in before he had to leave for two and half months. “Cooper invited me to LA for Christmas. And Wevid invited me to Chicago for New Year’s. Well, they invited both of us. But with you being gone, I think I might take them up on it. Coop said he’d pay for all the tickets.” </p><p>Kurt smoothed a hand down Blaine’s spine, trying to still him and sooth away the nerves. “That sounds like a great idea,” Kurt hummed. “I wish I could be with you,” he admitted. This would be the first Christmas that they wouldn’t be able to spend together since coming back. Hopefully the last, but you never know where life would take you in the future. </p><p>
  <strong>(The Project Runway episodes. I planned on doing a few scenes from Kurt's experience with them, but this one wouldn't leave me alone so it had to be added.)</strong>
</p><p>Kurt looked up, eager for the next assignment. Heidi seemed particularly excited about this challenge, she was practically bouncing up and down in giddiness. “Okay designers,” she said, clapping her hands and giving a big smile. “This week’s challenge is one that should test your skills. You’re going to be designing outfits for the Show Choir Nationals competitors. Three outfits per designer, a male, a female and another of either. Your models are here…” She waved her hand, much like Vanna White would, and a group of teens came out onto the stage.</p><p>There were fifteen teens in all, five different groups of three, and Kurt’s eyes widened when he saw Blaine, Tina and Unique among them. He bit his lip to try and contain his grin; he’d missed Blaine so much and seeing him here was going to make him burst. Blaine, for his part, looked just as happy, if a little stressed. From the looks the boy was getting from some of the other girls on the catwalk, Kurt was pretty sure he’d been hounded for a while.</p><p>“Say hello to your models, designers,” Heidi said with a smile. The designers all said quiet hellos, and the teens all waved back. “These are some of the competitors for this year’s Show Choir Nationals competition. Three from each of the teams that will be competing from your home states. So that means, Marissa, that you will be designing for the three from James River High School in Virginia. Say hello to the members of Current Edition!” There were two girls and a boy who grinned at the designer, and she happily smiled back.</p><p>“Brandon, you’re designing for the team from Mark Kappel High School. Say hello to the three from the Aztec Singers!” Brandon gave a wave to the two girls and the boy standing on the stage, but he didn’t look too pleased about it. He muttered under his breath about how he wasn’t here to be designing for kids.</p><p>Heidi moved down the line, to the next group, of a boy, a girl and one teen who looked like they could be either gender. “Duval, your group hails from Arlington High School. Say hello to the members of Flight!” Duval smiled at the three, and Kurt could already see the gears turning in his head.</p><p>“Lucy,” Heidi grinned, moving down the line. “Your group is from Uniondale High School right here in New York state. Say hello to the members from Rhythm of the Knight!” There were two boys and a girl waving at the designer from the catwalk, and Lucy grinned happily, nearly bouncing in her seat.</p><p>“And last but not least, Kurt,” Heidi said, clasping her hands behind her back. “I’m aware that you have a bit of an advantage having worked with your models before, but it’s been agreed that since you are the youngest designer here, that we will overlook that advantage. From McKinley High School, say hello to the members of New Directions!” Kurt grinned, giving his friends a little finger wave and getting happy waves back. </p><p>“Now designers,” Heidi said, clapping again. “You have three days to create three looks for your models. Your budget is five hundred dollars. The looks need to be cohesive and work well for the setting. Good luck.”</p><p>~*~</p><p>“Oh my Gaga!” Kurt exclaimed, laughing as Tina launched at him and grabbed him up in a big hug. “I’ve missed you guys!” The workroom was busy, with all the designers taking measurements and trying to get to know the teenagers they were designing for. It wasn’t a really comfortable atmosphere, what with the nerves and the cameras and all, but Kurt wasn’t much paying attention to that.</p><p>“Yeah?” Tina laughed, stepping back. “Not as much as you missed Birdie, I’m sure.” She stepped out of the way, letting Blaine take her place. </p><p>“You’d be right about that,” Kurt grinned, wrapping his arms around Blaine and letting his fiancé-husband-boyfriend sink into his embrace. Blaine gave a happy little sigh and some of the tension seeped out of his shoulders. “Color?” Kurt whispered.</p><p>“Yellow,” Blaine whispered back. “I’ve missed you.”</p><p>“Blaine’s hot stuff in the show choir world,” Unique piped up, watching some of the other teens in the room with what could have surmounted to a scowl. “Apparently his reputation precedes him, although some people have decided to ignore the fact that he’s taken.” Yeah, okay, that was Unique throwing shade, and Kurt shifted just a bit to see who she was glaring at. It looked like the girls from both California and Oregon were to blame for her bad mood, and for Blaine’s anxiety this time around. </p><p>“Don’t you have to be working?” Blaine whispered when Kurt made no move to separate from him.</p><p>“Everyone’s just taking measurements at the moment, and I have all of yours already,” Kurt responded. And he did. He had Blaine’s memorized, and Tina’s as well. And although he’d never actually made anything for Unique, he’d gotten her measurements at the beginning of the year, as well as had a long conversation about how to design clothing that would be optimal for her situation. “I can take a moment to hug my fiancé-husband-boyfriend,” he whispered softly, so that no one else would hear. “Besides, I’m just going to make what I made last time.” He’d made their Nationals outfits Before, when he’d been home for Finn’s funeral and taking time off to grieve. Hopefully this time that wouldn’t happen and he could focus on happier things.</p><p>The date for their wedding was supposed to be tomorrow. Kurt wasn’t entirely sure how they were going to swing that, with him under such strict restrictions, but then again, perhaps the Fates would just declare them married and let it go. Did they really need a ceremony of any sort? They already had the signed document.</p><p>Kurt leaned back against his work table, keeping Blaine firmly held against him even as he grinned at Tina and Unique. “So, what are you guys thinking for outfits this year?”</p><p>“We talked it over with the others before coming,” Tina said, smiling at her friends. Blaine was slowly relaxing, and it was good to see. He’d been on edge for days, honestly, and the other show choir members hadn’t helped much today. “And we kinda want something in the lines of the Michael performance from last year.”</p><p>“That look was classy,” Unique said, even though she hadn’t been part of the choir then. “The black and white. Mm…nice.” </p><p>Kurt nodded, reaching out and snagging his sketchbook. He knew, of course, the exact look he was going for. He’d made it before, and it would be easy to make again. But he quickly sketched out a male and female version, talking it over with the three, Blaine now willing to contribute, and ignoring the cameras completely. </p><p>“Add a little gold, maybe?” Unique asked, pointing to the dress design. “Just to stand out a bit.”</p><p>“Stripes?” Kurt asked, glancing at Blaine, who caught the look and tried not to laugh. Could this be considered cheating? </p><p>
  <strong>(Later, at the judging.)</strong>
</p><p>“Your look is rather basic,” Michael pointed out, and Kurt raised an eyebrow, tilting his head in a way to indicate that the judge should continue. “It doesn’t really stand out much.”<br/>Kurt nodded. “Yes, but we’re designing for a show choir competition, not a fashion show,” he said.</p><p>“But it could have been a little sexier, let’s be honest,” Michael said, motioning to Tina and Unique, standing slightly behind Kurt. </p><p>Kurt shifted, taking a deep breath and felt Blaine’s hand rest lightly on the small of his back. “They’re high-school students,” he said slowly. “Not playboy bunnies.”</p><p>Heidi choked a little, ducking her head to hide her laugh, even as Nina’s jaw dropped. </p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes. “It’s clear that you’ve never watched a show choir competition before, but the outfits are supposed to compliment the choir, not stand out. I’d recommend you go watch last year’s Nationals. I designed the outfits of the winning team then, too. But I didn’t make them to be memorable. Just complementary. And easy to dance in.”</p><p>“Can you dance in them?” Nina asked, tilting her head. She looked incredibly amused but directed the question to the three models. </p><p>“Yes,” Tina said. “Kurt always makes sure that we can dance in the outfits he makes. Has Blaine test the pants and everything.”</p><p>“Test?” Heidi asked, eyebrows rising. </p><p>“There’s footage, I’m sure,” Kurt said with some amusement. Blaine flushed a little, shuffling in place. </p><p>“Well, thank you for your comments,” Heidi said, shaking her head. “Designers, you may leave the stage while we confer.”</p><p>
  <strong>(Kurt gets into the final three, and goes home to prepare for New York Fashion Week. He and Blaine "get married" the night that they were both in New York, and their rings are now visible to everyone, although many people are just oblivious and don't notice. Those that do notice Blaine's (since Kurt hasn't been around) just think the two of them got engaged. This next scene is when Kurt is home for a few months before the finals, and when the shooting happens at McKinley.)</strong>
</p><p>“Let me get the door,” Blaine said, standing up. The shooting was supposed to happen soon, and it would be better if the door was already closed. Blaine and Kurt had gone over this day so many times, trying to find a way to keep it from happening at all, but frankly, there wasn’t a way to do that.</p><p>He could always confront Becky, but that would probably lead to more problems. So, instead, they were just going to let it happen—no one had been hurt, after all. </p><p>Blaine got to the door just as the first gunshot went off, and that’s when everything went wrong. Because instead of him shutting the door and letting everyone panic like they had Before, pain exploded through his leg and he crumbled to the ground with a cry. </p><p>He lost track of time for a bit, the world whiting out a little. And when he finally came back to his senses, it was clear that quite a bit of time had passed—although he wasn’t sure how much. </p><p>The door was shut and locked, the lights off, and Coach Beiste was stationed closer to the door, fire extinguisher in hand. Mr. Schue had gathered the kids behind the piano, and they had clearly dragged Blaine back too. Blaine was cradled in Finn’s lap, the boy’s hand over his mouth keeping him quiet, and Blaine realized that he’d probably been a little too noisy for a lockdown situation. Sam was crouched in front of him, missing his overshirt, which was being pressed against his leg and soaked with blood. </p><p>So much for no one being hurt this time around. What kind of luck was this?</p><p>Blaine twisted his head a little, dislodging Finn’s hand enough to gasp out, “What happened?”</p><p>Sam’s head shot up, eyes wide and a little panicked even as his hands remained steady on Blaine’s thigh. “You with us now?” he asked, voice quiet and a little shaky. Blaine gave a little nod, sucking in a sharp breath. “You were shot.”</p><p>“What?” Blaine gasped, head falling back against Finn. He groaned softly as Sam tightened his hold, his hands slipping just a little in the blood. Thankfully (and Blaine was incredibly thankful for this) the bullet hadn’t hit his femoral artery, or he’d be dead already. And Blaine didn’t think he’d get a third chance at life. Fourth chance? Did the Sadie Hawkins Incident count as the first time he’d died since he’d flatlined on the operating table? Whatever.</p><p>Kitty and Marley were both crying behind Sam, huddled together even as Artie and Brittney were frantically texting. Unique, Ryder and Jake looked scared out of their minds as well. Blaine felt a little bad, because he’d known that they would be scared, but he hadn’t actually expected getting shot this time around, so the guilt was short lived. </p><p>“There’s a shooter in the school, and you got shot,” Finn explained, shifting Blaine slightly. His hand hadn’t moved far, still resting on Blaine’s jaw, and he was trembling slightly, his face pale and eyes wide. Blaine looked up at him and gave a short nod, swallowing heavily, letting Finn know that he understood. </p><p>“Wow,” Blaine gasped, eyes screwing shut, because the pain in his thigh was just short of excruciating. Almost like breaking his femur again, only not quite. “I get all the luck, don’t I?” he asked, chuckling softly only for it to turn into a groan.</p><p>“Sorry,” Sam murmured, although he glanced up at Blaine with a slight smile on his face. The slight humor had helped to calm some of them, although a lot of the club were still crying and texting and freaking out silently. </p><p>“Sadly,” Blaine murmured, relaxing back against Finn as he tried to remember how to breathe through the pain. “Not the worst I’ve ever felt.” </p><p>
  <strong>(Cut to the hospital after the event. Blaine was the only one hurt.)</strong>
</p><p>“Are you family?” the nurse asked condescendingly, looking Kurt over. </p><p>“I’m his husband,” Kurt bit out, lifting his hand and showing off his ring. “And if you don’t let me back to see him, I’ll be suing for discrimination.” He could hear Carole’s gasp, as well as the murmurs from Tina and Brittney. Burt’s hand on his shoulder tightened reflexively and Kurt held back any expression he could have made. This wasn’t, of course, how he wanted that information to get out. He and Blaine had been hoping to wait until after graduation to reveal that they’d gotten married, but whatever. Fate had clearly wanted them to be married at this point and had provided all the means for it. So now, he had the perfect reason to be back in the hospital room with his husband and help keep him calm. </p><p>The nurse scowled, but then sighed. She was clearly homophobic to some point, but her job required her to put up with it. Kurt refrained from rolling his eyes and raised his eyebrow instead. She huffed. “Fine. We were informed that Mr. Anderson has PTSD and that hospitals are one of his triggers, so he’s been kept lightly sedated. Follow me.”</p><p>“We’ll wait for you,” Burt said softly, his hand on Kurt’s shoulder tightening a little once again. “And then we’re going to have a long talk.”</p><p>Kurt did, at this point, roll his eyes. “Yes, Dad,” he muttered back, making to follow the nurse. “I’m sure we will.”</p><p>Kurt followed the nurse back to the room that Blaine was in, and he frowned a little at the sight of his husband. Blaine always looked so small when he was in a hospital bed. He was dozing, hooked up to IV lines and monitors. The nurse waved him in and stalked off, clearly done with having to deal with him and Blaine. Kurt rolled his eyes and sat at the bedside, taking Blaine’s hand.</p><p>Blaine sighed softly but didn’t wake, and Kurt smiled just a little. He startled, though, when a doctor entered the room. “Mister—” the doctor asked, smiling and leaving an opening for Kurt’s name.</p><p>“Anderson-Hummel,” Kurt replied, getting to his feet to shake the doctor’s hand. “I’m Blaine’s husband.”</p><p>The doctor, Dr. Smith by the nametag, blinked. “I was unaware that he was married,” he said, frowning at his paperwork. </p><p>“We eloped a month or so ago,” Kurt revealed. “A few weeks after his nineteenth birthday.” He took a deep breath. “And yes, I’m aware of how that looks.”</p><p>The doctor waved it away with a slight laugh. “I’m not here to judge,” he said. “I’m just here to make sure your husband gets the care he needs to go home.” </p><p>“How is he?” Kurt asked, glancing back at Blaine.</p><p>“Incredibly lucky,” Dr. Smith said, raising his eyebrows. “That bullet should have torn straight through his femoral artery. If it had, there would have been nothing that anyone could have done, not in the position they were in.” He paused, glancing up at Kurt’s pale face, and grimaced a little. “Sorry. Anyway, the bullet ricocheted off the rod in his leg and missed the artery completely. He lost a lot of blood, but it’s more or less a deep flesh wound. He’ll need to stay off his leg for a couple weeks, but he should heal up just fine.”</p><p>Kurt gave a sigh of relief, thanking the Fates for that. They were still waiting for information about the shooting, but it was clear that Becky had nothing to do with it this time around. She’d brought a gun to school, yes, but Sue had managed to get it off her before it had misfired. The actual shooting had been something else entirely.</p><p>
  <strong>(As it turns out, the shooting was an assassination attempt on Blaine, as his parents are still unaware of him having a will. They get found out and are now in prison, which is great for Blaine's mental health. There's a long talk about getting married in secret, but in the end everything works out. Skip ahead to when Finn is supposed to die; I always figured he'd been killed by being hit by a car, not while he was in a car.)</strong>
</p><p>“Finn! Wait!” Blaine called, struggling with his crutches for a short moment. Finn had paused to wait for him, though, and Blaine breathed a sigh of relief. “Sorry, I know I’m slow.”</p><p>“No problem, dude,” Finn grinned, aiming a light punch at Blaine’s shoulder. “You need something?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Blaine said, frantically searching his brain for something to talk about. Anything to keep Finn from crossing the road. Anything to keep him away from cars. “Nationals. I was wondering about the choreography? I’m not sure…” he paused, tilting his head to the side. “Well. I should be off the crutches by then, but…”</p><p>Finn paused, blinking at him, and then grinned, turning and walking off. He was walking slower, though, clearly wanting Blaine to follow. “Dude, you’re fine,” he said with a wave of his hand. “You’re one of the best dancers we’ve got. Soon as you’re able, you’ll get the moves down. Nationals is in the bag, man.” </p><p>Blaine struggled a little to keep up, wishing he was better at crutches. He’d never gotten the hang of them despite the amount of times he’d used them. “Finn…” Finn paused for a half-second and then stepped off the curb and into the road. Blaine dropped the crutches and tackled Finn out of the way of the screeching tires that sped around the corner and past them, close enough that the car clipped Finn’s elbow as they fell.</p><p>Finn gave a startled, pained cry, and they hit the ground hard. Blaine gasped as the curb caught his leg at the right angle to send pain shooting from his injury and up his back. “Shit,” Finn said, curling slightly around his arm. “Are you okay?!”</p><p>Blaine shook his head, trying to catch his breath. He’d done it. The car hadn’t hit Finn. He was alive. Holy crap. He’d done it. He suddenly felt like crying in relief, but his leg definitely gave a good excuse for the few tears that did manage to form. Because crap, that had hurt. “Fine. Fine,” he finally managed to gasp out. “You?”</p><p>“Think I broke my arm,” Finn mumbled, wincing heavily. “Who was that?”</p><p>“Dunno,” Blaine sighed, rolling onto his back and gingerly stretching out his leg. He winced again when he felt blood soaking through his pants. He’d torn his stitches. “Moron didn’t even slow down.”</p><p>“You’re bleeding,” Finn gasped, still curled around his arm. He was sitting up now, though. “And yeah, my arm’s broken.”</p><p>Blaine groaned softly, reaching to pull his phone from his pocket. “Gotta call Burt. Or Kurt. Or someone.” </p><p>Finn eyed him for a moment, frowning. “You sure you’re okay? Did you hit your head? You’re not responding normally.”</p><p>“Just really, really glad I saw that car in time, man,” Blaine answered, fumbling with his phone for a moment. “Dude…you almost died.”</p><p>“Holy shit,” Finn whispered, as though that concept had just barely sunk in. “I almost died. Dude. You saved my life.”</p><p>“Owed you one,” Blaine whispered, holding his phone to his ear. He didn’t even really know who he had dialed but waited patiently for them to answer. </p><p>“Hello?”</p><p>“Kurt,” Blaine breathed, relaxing slightly. Okay, so he’d been aiming for Burt, honestly, but Kurt was even better. “Hi, honey. Finn and I need a ride to the hospital.”</p><p>“Holy crap. Are you okay?” Kurt sounded frantic, but then, he’d been a little frantic all day. He couldn’t make an excuse to follow Finn around all day, like Blaine had been doing, so he’d had to rely on his husband to save his brother. From the sound of it, it worked, but they were still hurt. </p><p>“Yeah. Yeah. We’re mostly okay. Finn broke his arm. And I tore my stitches,” Blaine answered, still lying on the ground. </p><p>
  <strong>( Okay, this is the last chapter of the entire fic! Blaine has graduated. They won Nationals that year! Yay! Um...let's see. Kurt got second place at Project Runway and has been accepted into FIT. Blaine's going to NYU. And Blaine owns two places in New York, now that he has full access to his inheritance. Also, Kurt got his dad to go to the hospital for a random checkup and they found the cancer a lot earlier so it was just a simple surgery to get it taken care of.)</strong>
</p><p>“Man, I wish they would have given us more information about these places,” Blaine murmured, running a hand through his curls. He glanced down at the phone in his hand, displaying the address to the first residence. “A little forewarning, perhaps?”</p><p>“Don’t you like a little mystery?” Kurt teased, placing his hand on the small of his husband’s back. He quickly checked both sides of the street before ushering Blaine across and towards the subway. Thankfully, having lived in the city for so long Before allowed him to at least have some idea of where they were going.</p><p>Blaine huffed a little, stashing his phone back in his pocket. “With my life? I’d like a little less mystery, please.”</p><p>Kurt shrugged, not bothering to refute that one. Blaine deserved a little less chaos in his life after all he’d been through. “Okay, let’s just get to the first place,” he said, studying the subway map.</p><p>It wasn’t a terribly long commute to the first place, but it was a little far from the colleges the two were planning on attending. Walking down the street to the building, they realized that they were in a rather high-class area, with large buildings and expensive restaurants and boutiques. It was upscale, influential and very much a socialite kind of area. </p><p>The building itself was tall, and the apartment that Blaine owned was up near the top floor. Not the penthouse, not quite, but still rather high up. It also took up the entirety of that floor. Kurt and Blaine exchanged looks and stepped into the apartment, looking around in astonishment. </p><p>The place was empty, but had a very industrial, modern vibe to it. Large windows covered the entirety of one wall, looking out over the city. There was a large, wrap-around balcony as well. The kitchen was massive, with granite and stainless steel and an odd layout that spoke more of it being a showpiece than a functional kitchen. There were glass lined stairs leading to a large loft. Three bedrooms, each with their own bathroom. A lot of steel and brick and wire. </p><p>Two thousand square feet of modern elegance, fourteen floors above the city in a neighborhood that spoke of wealth.</p><p>It was gorgeous. It was modern. It was fancy. It was everything that Blaine thought Kurt deserved, and everything that Blaine’s parents had always strived to obtain.</p><p>Blaine hated it.</p><p>Kurt had stopped looking around the place rather early on, and instead was watching Blaine, a small smile on his face. He knew, Blaine realized when he glanced his way, just how unsettled Blaine was finding himself in this place. “Let’s go find the other one,” Kurt murmured softly, holding his hand out to his husband and wiggling his fingers. This was a good place, but not a comfortable one.</p><p>They stopped at a small café, needing a pick-me-up and a place to map out the journey to the second address. “Well, this next one is in a more convenient location,” Kurt pointed out, waving his phone at Blaine. The next address was roughly halfway between NYU and FIT. It wasn’t, however, a neighborhood that either of them recognized.</p><p>The subway ride took nearly an hour, all told, but Blaine and Kurt just spent the time talking about their plans for school and life in general. They talked about what they would do to the first apartment, if it turned out they had to live there. They talked about the moving process and the specifics of how that would work. They talked about the possibilities of inviting a few friends to move in with them, depending on where they ended up living.</p><p>Disembarking the subway, they walked to the neighborhood of the second address, and Blaine soon found himself enchanted. Kurt did as well, actually. The neighborhood was old, established and eclectic. There were shops and stalls and boutiques and hole-in-the-wall restaurants from all over the world. Greek food next to an oriental market next to a little flower shop. The entire street was bursting with color and charm. Blaine was outright grinning.</p><p>“Hey, I think that’s it,” Kurt said, tugging on his arm and pointing across the street. </p><p>Blaine looked up and blinked, eyebrows rising. “I’m getting some Ghostbuster vibes,” he said, tilting his head to one side. </p><p>The building was sandwiched in between two other buildings, but it was easily the most unique, at three stories with a pitched roof and a protruding front door to the far left of it. It was old brick, and wide, with three large wooden bay doors for the old firetrucks that it had once housed. The second floor was mostly windows, with the third only having three arched ones, the middle window being the largest. “I wasn’t expecting an old firehouse, to be honest,” Kurt said, glancing at his phone to make sure they had the right address. “All the other places you own are so modern.” Yup, this was it; Blaine owned the whole building.</p><p>Blaine bit his lip, still staring at the building. “Lolo knew I like old places,” he whispered, taking a deep breath. And that was it, wasn’t it? That his grandfather had specifically bought this building for him; there wasn’t any other explanation. “Wanna go in?”</p><p>“Sure,” Kurt smiled, crossing the street and waving to the little lady next door that was sweeping the sidewalk in front of the little café in the ground floor of the building on the right. Kurt fumbled for the keys the lawyers had given them and found the one to the firehouse entrance. The door creaked a little upon opening, but that just made Blaine laugh.</p><p>They stepped into what looked like an entrance hall mixed with a stairwell. There was a large cabinet at the back of the small room, next to the stairs, and a big door that led into the bays. Kurt stepped down the three steps into the bays, eyes widening. “Wow,” he said, spinning in place. “This would make a fabulous workshop.” </p><p>The space was mostly empty, of course, having been a space for three firetrucks at one time. With the building as old as it was, it likely hadn’t been used in decades, though. T<br/>here were lockers along the wall that the entrance was on, and a full bath behind the stair-hall complete with a tub-shower-combo. The back wall had a long counter running the length of it, with storage under and a large sink in the corner. Windows covered the back wall as well, looking out into an empty lot.</p><p>Blaine wandered over to the windows, peering through the grime (the place had clearly been empty for some time and needed a good cleaning) at the weeds and rocks behind them, surrounded by a crumbling brick wall. “Who owns the lot behind us?” he asked Kurt.</p><p>Kurt, who had been silently walking the space and muttering about workspace to himself, checked the information on his phone. “You do,” he said. “Apparently it was part of the property. Used to work on equipment or something.” </p><p>“Who the heck thought we’d get a large yard in the middle of New York City?” Blaine said, tilting his head to one side. There were so many possibilities. “Want to see what’s upstairs?”</p><p>Kurt laughed and led the way up the stairs to the second floor. “Weird place for a laundry room,” he said, pointing at the old washer and dryer in the stair-hall. There had been doors hiding it, at one point, but they’d fallen off and were leaning against the wall instead. They entered the door into the main room and Blaine was back to smiling.</p><p>“Needs some work,” he said, but the grin was still firmly in place. The space was large, but not as open as the bays had been. The far side had been split into two bedrooms that were roughly a hundred square feet each. The bathroom was in the same space as the one downstairs and was also a full bath. The kitchen was to the front of the building, with the main counter stretching underneath the wall of windows. The wall that separated the main space from the bedrooms had the majority of the cabinet space, as well as the fridge (which definitely would need to be replaced.) </p><p>There was a partition wall in the middle of the space, open on both sides much like the wall that was in Kurt’s bedroom back in Lima. There was room for a dining table and a seating area on the kitchen side of the wall, and on the back a space that had Blaine laughing. “Wow, this was built for a nerd like me,” he said, spinning in the space a little.</p><p>The entire back wall was covered in built-in bookcases, stretching the entire length. There was enough room for a sitting area and a TV if they mounted it on the partition wall. Plus, room for a baby grand piano in one corner. “B,” Kurt said, smiling. “There’s still another floor.”</p><p>They wandered up the stairs to find another laundry area in the stair-hall, which was a little odd honestly. But through the door was a large, open space. There was a bathroom in the same spot as the other two, and a large closet (large being almost as big as one of the downstairs bedroom) in the far front corner, but other than that, the space was empty.</p><p>“Honey,” Kurt said, pointing to the space to the left of the closet. “That would be a great recording space,” he said. Blaine nodded, standing in front of the large, arched windows and looking out over the street. “Our bed here,” Kurt murmured, looking around, “Sitting area. TV. Your tub couch. This would make an amazing bedroom.”</p><p>“One-thousand square feet for just our bedroom?” Blaine laughed, raising an eyebrow and turning to look at his husband. “Is this the place?” he asked, sounding a little nervous. “I know the other one---”</p><p>“You hate the other one,” Kurt pointed out. Blaine hadn’t even had to say it, Kurt had known. “And this one is perfect. It’s got the workspace for me. The recording space for you. Bedrooms for friends and future children. A yard. And yeah, it needs work, but we have a few months before we’re planning on moving in.”</p><p>“You sure?” Blaine asked, bouncing on his toes a little. </p><p>Kurt smiled. “You love it here,” he murmured. “I can see it. And this place is perfect.”</p><p>Blaine grinned, surging forward to pull Kurt into an enthusiastic kiss. “Thank you,” he whispered against Kurt’s mouth. “For everything.”</p><p>“I am requesting,” Kurt said impishly, pulling back a bit. “That we get a Ghostbusters poster for the ground-floor stair-hall.”</p><p>And Blaine laughed.</p><p> </p><p>The End</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I may, at some point in the future, come back and flesh out the rest of the story. But I figured I could at least give ya'll something, rather than just leave it unfinished indefinitely. I have a bad habit of not updating for literal years and not realizing that it's been that long. So, here you are. The "end of the story" so to speak.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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